In the dark of the night it was absolutely silent in the monastery, and not a peep could be heard, except a constant scratching of a quill. Father Bryan sat at his desk, scribbling away under the light of a nearly burned out candle, and found the sound quite soothing. It was the sound of progress as he copied page after page from a book that had seen the last of its days. The poor thing was in desperate need of renovation, and the project was on his mind so much that he couldn't finish sleeping. He didn't mind rising early, because this was one of his more enjoyable duties as a cleric. He took great pride making sure every last page looked as good or better than the original.

One final dip in the ink, and one more sentence added, he placed the pen down, and examined the page in the light. He blew on it to insure it doesn't bleed, then placed it on the others to dry. One more page down he grabbed another, and started again anew. This page was going to be different. Using his skills in art he painstakingly created an ink wash replica. He took great care to encapsulate the details down to the very stroke. He had a talent for the arts, and surely this is what he was born for. Art wasn't his only interest however. History had always been a fascination of his, and looking back were centuries of life lessons that shaped how we see our lives today. Like this story for example.

A long time ago after the twelve kingdoms were well established around the world of Duranth, the third kingdom, the human kingdom, started a civil war. A rebellious group of humans led by a man named Hromanger fled into the mountains to be a free people, and fought for their freedoms for many decades. Later in history they would be known to be the first Dwarves. The Dwarves became a very prideful people, and the war would have continued till their very destruction, but King Arodin the eighth son to be born in war reached his hand out in peace.

Father Bryan finished the illustration, and examined it as a whole. It portrayed a wedding. A royal wedding between Arodin's son, and his beautiful bride, the daughter of Hromanger the fifth. They held hands while standing underneath an arch that Father Bryan imagined was cut from white marble, fastened together with gold rings, and decorated with blossoms of many varieties. Truly a wedding fit for a king. He couldn't help but wonder how the kiss went. Did the groom hunch over, or did the bride step on a box? He laughed at the thought, and with a sigh he appreciated the Priest who took great care to immortalize this moment. He often thinks of the day when he may join them in the afterlife. Oh the conversations they will have.

One more page finished, and it occurred to him that the candle had finally gone out. He didn't realize, because the sun had been spilling in from the window. “Morning already?” He said. With an incredible stretch, and a yawn he decides that it is time for him to fetch his breakfast.

Unbeknownst to Father Bryan, great workings were afoot, and a breeze blew through the window bringing with it sweet smells of freshly baked bread that delighted his nostrils. Oh how much he loves baked sweet bread; Banana bread, Orange bread, Blueberry bread. Oh! Fruits in bread made his mouth water. He knew there was only one place that could satisfy his craving. He must go visit Demont at his shop. He is a master of pastries.

He pulled himself from his chair grunting, and bending his back. Perhaps he had been in the chair too long. A walk would be good for him, he thought. He grabbed his walking stick and wobbled out the door.

The dawn grew more and more, spilling into the halls of the monastery. The other occupants began to stir from their quarters, and marched their repeated morning ritual. Yawning politely, while trying to greet each other.

“Good morning Brother Bryan,” said Dalyn, another human in the monastery.

“Good morning. I trust you slept well?” He said while continuing to walk. Neither stopped to chat, but Dalyn did retort, “As well as my duty allows,” a common tort among the men of the cloth. How right you are, he thought to himself. Others pass by, shaking off the sleep from their eyes, mustering a simple nod, and a sleepy smile.

Father Bryan exited the building and took a deep breath of fresh green air, and he carried on his merry way, onto the grounds where the path led to the gates. Each side had been decorated with blossoming shrubbery, and he noticed that the Gardner must have had an early rise as well, because he sleepily clipped away at the branches making them perfect, and presentable. There was no greater pride for a Gardner than a perfect garden.

The sun peeked over the steeples, casting light over the vast countryside that they called Hareom. What a site to behold! The monastery sat at the highest spot as a beacon for the City to look up to, and many did with marvelous gratitude. The Church had given the people peace, and prosperity for the First Kingdom for many centuries.

walking down the cobblestone road he had a skip in his step, heading to the lower levels of the city to complete his quest. It was unfortunate that the markets couldn't be right outside the monastery, but this did make it enjoyable regardless. He looked forward to passing the other citizens, and perhaps he enjoyed it a little too much. Back home in the third kingdom the people were usually cold to those who followed the path of holiness, but here he barely noticed ill will. People were just so pleasant here.

While distracted with his thoughts a root snagged his robe, and he nearly tripped onto the paved road.

“Look out!” A man cried from his wagon, while his cargo full of barrels lost their support, and to the surprise of the crew, one large barrel landed in front of Father Bryan, busting its insides onto the pavement. “Father, are you all right?” said the man on the wagon.

“Oh yes. Quite all right,” he responded with high spirits. The wagoneer crinkled his eyebrow, watching his employees standing around like buffoons, and gestured to them “Can someone clean that up?” two men jumped into action quickly picking up the slabs, and the wagoneer softens, and addresses Father Bryan. “Apologies” he said sheepishly.

“Do not fret,” said Father Bryan. “No harm done, and you have a blessed day” The wagoneer smiled, tipped his hat, and returned to his work.

Father Bryan had gone the rest of the way with no further distractions to keep him from reaching Demont's shop. besides the occasional “Hello Father,” from the pedestrians. When he came into view of the shop keeper's booth he could see the seven foot minotaur tending to customers with a smile. Not much different from Men and Minotaur, except of course the horns sticking out of his head, and a tail. Demont was full of energy, and greeted father Bryan with a deep belly laugh. “Father!” he said excitedly, gesturing to Father Bryan. “Come come, I have delights a plenty, happy to see you. How are you, Father?” his demeanor was very contagious to say the least.

“Tired as usual, but nothing a pastry can't cure.” With twitchy fingers he happily grabbed a piece from the basket, tossing a copper coin, which Demont caught in his palm, and then he bit into the pastry. It had fulfilled all expectations. The Morsel melted in his mouth. It was Buttery, flaky, and it tasted like an orange. A hum of satisfaction escaped him. “Nobody can do them quite like you,” he said with a mouthful.

“Are you buttering me up? He said in a playful tone, “Well it's working,” he laughed again his contagious belly laugh “So Father, what is on the Itinerary, today?”

“Oh, not much today, I suppose. if I am out and about, I should check up on the friends I have been neglecting.”

“Ah, yes,” he stroked his goatee, remembering something. “Well if there is someone you have time for, you should go see Bailly.”

“Ah yes. It has been a while. I recall they had a funeral not too long ago. The Son in law was it?”

Demont sobered, leaning on the counter “Yeah, unfortunate heart attack, You never know when you are going to go, you know?

“Yes,” he replied thoughtfully, touching the broach tacked over his heart. Giving a silent prayer that he has said so many times in his life that it has become reactionary. They would often say to themselves 'Let her will be done, amen, amen.' A reminder that this world is not permanent, and we should enjoy the time we have. God's plan continues for us whether we like it or not.

Demont tips his horn. “When you see him, give him my condolences again. We think of them often, my wife and I.”

“I most certainly will, Demont. See you at the next craving, maybe sooner.”

“Please take some of these for the road. On me,” he hands a bundle ready to go for Father Bryan. “Thank you kindly.” he said, placing the bag in a safe robe pocket.

Demont nodded and gave a soft wave goodbye before he got distracted by another sale.

Father Bryan had another lengthy trek ahead of him outside the city. If he were to walk, it might have taken him half the day. He didn't mind. It was beautiful outside, and found that this was a great opportunity to take in God's bounty, but much to his surprise a wagoneer was heading on the same path. The wagoneer insisted that he could drop him off on the way. He also liked to talk, and ramble on about anything, much of nothing really, the on goings of his travels, and when they finally reached the tip of Bailly's farm the wagoneer declared Father Bryan an invited guest in his home, if he ever travels in that area. “Enjoy your journey, Friend” Father Bryan said, waving the wagoneer goodbye.

He stood before the dirt road with miles of field on either side. On one side was fields of wheat, white and ready to harvest, and on the other cattle were grazing away. It wasn't long till the workers saw his silhouette in the distance. most of the workers were sweeping the field, hard at work, cutting down the stocks with their sickles, and once Father Bryan was finally in earshot of the workers they gave him a proper greeting, “Heyo!”

One leaned on his sickle, chewing on his makeshift wheat toothpick “Hello Father, I'm Sal. Are you looking for Bailly?”

“I am. Is he here?” said Father Bryan.

“Sure thing.” He whistled from his fingers, and the other men looked up. “Talo, where's your Gramps?

Talo, a young boy, shrugged his shoulders, “By the barn maybe?”

Sal waited patiently for something more, but Talo with his blank expression seemed quite satisfied with his answer. Sal gave up waiting. “Well, maybe you could go check? Tell em we got company, and make it quick.”

Talo happy to oblige, dropped his sickle, and jogged away.

“That boy is the grandson? He has grown up so much.” said Father Bryan

“Yeah, boy sure is growing fast. He wants to help his Momma with the Harvest Festival this year, said he can hang out with Friends on another day. Such a good kid. You plannin on the festival?”

“Counting the days. Who wouldn't?” he said.

“Hey Grandpa!” Talo's voice echoed, then moments later Bailly came visible by the Corals with a big smile. Sal lifted his Sickle and started cutting again, “You have your self a good day Father.”

“Good day,” he replied back.

Bailly tipped his horn to Father Bryan, and greeted him with a two hand grasp.

“It's been a while, eh? The Monastery keeps you busy as always?”

They walked back to the corral for a fence to lean on. “It's been taxing, but none the less it has been rewarding.” Father Bryan replied “And you? Demont sends his regards, How has everything been since the Funeral?”

Bailly rubbed his callused hands together. “It's quite alright, we are doing what we can.”

“How is your daughter doing?” Father Bryan said.

Bailly was hesitant to reply “She has been doin better. Has had her mind occupied lately.” Bailly turned his attention to inside the corral, and gave a nod. Father Bryan looked to see what he meant, and Inside a human man was combing the dust out of a horse's coat. Father Bryan watched the boy. Raven black hair, noticeably young, square Jaw, and a big smile while he brushed away.

“Who is the boy?” he said.

“That's Jake.” said Bailly “Ella finished a delivery in the Fifth Kingdom, and found the poor boy on the roadside inches from death.”

Father Bryan touched his broach. “Darklings?”

Bailly nodded, “He was ambushed, and was the only survivor.”

Oh, blessed Dura. You sent her to the Fifth Kingdom? Where is your sense man?”

Bailly looked appalled “Me? She insisted! Besides, she was in safe territory, only reason why I agreed. And I think she needed it to get away for a while. It might have helped. I did notice a change in her.”

The door to the barn smacked open, and Ella came out, holding a bucket and ladle, meeting the boy inside the corral. She crawled through the fence, and waved at Father Bryan, and her Father, with a contagious smile. She was a beautiful young Minotaur with platinum hair, and spots of brown blended with her pale complexion. She was a highly desirable young woman. uh– of course only meaning that among her people she is highly sought after. He blushed as he realized he was staring. The boy took the ladle, and Father Bryan couldn't help, but notice in that moment how happy they were. Maybe, he thought without question, perhaps God can make good through tragedies.

That moment fled quickly however when Bailly looked far up the road, and a dust cloud twirled into the sky, following a wagon in a hurry. “What in Darnation?”

Ella and Jake had noticed as well, and stepped out of the corral curious about the dust cloud.

Father Bryan spoke “Bailly, who are those people?”

Talo popped out of nowhere. “Hey Grandpa it's Uncle Garrett! Oooh, he looks mad.”

On the wagon Garrett had company, and Bailly began to sweat. “Sal, You better go get an Officer in case there's trouble.”

“On it Chief,” said Sal. “Talo, Let's go.”

“Hold on I want to see what's up” said Talo

“Go on, Talo,” said Bailly

Talo groaned, and followed Sal into the barn. They stormed out on a huge horse. Talo waved at his uncle as they passed by.

“Do you suspect trouble?” Father Bryan asked

Bailly adjusted his pants. “It's hard to say, but it doesn't look like a friendly visit.”

The Wagon stopped abruptly, and the Horses whinnied, pawing at the ground, after their brisk race. Garrett locked eyes on Ella, and stormed towards her. “ELLA!” Garrett bellowed. He huffed and puffed. “MY brother isn't even cold in the ground and I hear you are philandering with a Human!”

“Now hold on Gar-” said Bailly, but he couldn't finish. Garrett stared at him gritting his teeth, and crazy eyes “Bailly, What is this?” You allow this boy on your farm, to take who is rightfully mine?

“Yours?!” Ella said quite confused, and quite rightly appalled “I'm nobodies.”

“It's law, Ella.”

“Father Bryan, can you not do something?” said Bailly.

Father Bryan calmly reached for Bailly's Arm “I can't. By Minatourian law, he is obligated to take his late brother's wife.”

“I've let you mourn long enough, now you're coming with me, and you will serve in my house.” Garrett marched ahead, he was going to take Ella even if he had to carry her, but Jake stepped in front, glaring at Garrett “Get out of my way boy.”

“She is not coming with you,” Jake said

The seven foot Minotaur stood taller, and grinned. “You can't do anything to keep me from her, boy.”

“He can challenge,” Father Bryan spoke as a matter of fact.

Garrett frowned. “But he is not a Minotaur!”

“That has never been the case. Anyways, there is only one way to settle this.”

Bailly looked shocked at the words he heard. “Father, really? You're fine with this?”

“Ok I challenge.” Jake said “How are these disputes settled?”

Ella, horrified, gave Jake a look, like he said the dumbest thing. “No Jake, You can't!” she didn't get another word in, while her father was quick to grab her and pull her back.

Garrett cracked his knuckles “Fine! Let's get this over with.”

“Oh–” Jake moved as Garrett swung a punch right for Jake's head, quick reflexes saved him, ducking underneath, and crashing an elbow in Garrett's rib. Garrett expelled an “Oof,” Bringing his elbow down on Jake, which knocked him down on all fours, Garrett kicked, missing Jake by a hair as he rolled away, and he used the momentum of his roll to get back up. Garrett locked his fists together, and swung them around like a mace, Finally landing a strike in Jake's face, and knocked him off balance. Ella yelped, and a second hit knocked him down. A hoof came down onto his chest. Jake groaned, expelling all the air out of this lungs, and was going to get another stomp, before he rolled away again.

Off in the distance a wagon was leaving a cloud of dust in it's wake, Sal had returned leading a wagon full of officers.

Garrett ran at Jake, throwing punches, and getting redder in the face, while Jake evaded each one. Garrett swung wide. Jake ducked underneath again for a rib jab, but a knee came up into his face. Garrett grabbed his shirt to hold him still for a rally of punches. Jake twisted his body around and hugged Garrett's arm pulling him off balance, and throwing him over his shoulder, landing Garrett on the ground with a noisy thud. On the ground with the wind knocked out of him, Jake kicked him in the face. That felt personal. Garrett grabbed Jake's ankle before a second kick and pushed him off. You could see the red madness in his eyes. Garrett barrel rolled onto all fours, and one quick motion kicked himself off the ground in a charge, horns down to impale Jake, and with a Minatourian rage Garrett flails horn and fist into Jake. Jake gets cut by a sweeping horn, and a punch gives him a swollen eye.

The Officers arrived ready to stop the commotion, but Father Bryan told them to wait, declaring his authority in the church, and explaining the situation. Ella held her hands over her mouth holding back tears, praying Jake could survive. Of course how could he? she thought. How could Jake possibly win a Minotaur in a brawl! She could see the maddening Smile on Garrett's face. He started to enjoy the fight.

Jake was losing steam, unable to keep up with the barrage of rage, and he fell to the ground breathing heavily, bloody and bruised.

Garrett stood over him triumphant. “Was it worth it!” Garrett yelled. “You can't even protect her. Why should you have her?”

Jake swallowed the blood. “She deserves better. Your brother was a terrible husband.”

He kicks Jake in the stomach. “You didn't know him.”

he coughed blood. “Ella told me all about him. The drinking, the other woman. The abuse.”

He kicked him again. “What my brother did was his own business.”

“You don't care? Ella is just another wife to you isn't she? if I lose she'll live that life again?”

Garrett had to smile at that. “You lost boy.” Garrett squeezed his hand into a tight fist.

Ella struggled against her Father, “No! Stop! Let me go!” she cried.

Garrett swung down. The punch would have crushed his skull, but Jake held his hands up, shielding him from the punch, and a flash came from his palms that blinded everyone. Garrett screamed as he flew through the air and crashed into the barn collapsing in the rubble, and passing out.

For a second the world froze, and all jaws dropped. Bailly, overcoming his astonishment, commanded them to get Garrett off his farm. The Officers picked him up, and he groggily stepped with them into Garrett's Wagon. They sent the gang off with a few officers in tow.

Father Bryan dropped his staff. What did he just see? His heart was pulsing, and the sound left him. He stared at the boy in awe. Jake stood there looking at his hands in wonderment. Ella ran to him, nearly knocking him over, embracing him. It hurt, but he didn't care. Talo said something, but it was only static.

Father Bryan with a shaky hand commanded with authority “Officer, detain that boy, take him to the Monastery.”

The officers nodded, and two of them grabbed Jake. Ella tried to hold on, but Jake assured her “It's okay, Ella.” he said. He winced as they grasped him roughly, “Hey! Easy. It's tender.”

Talo frowned “He didn't do anything wrong!”

Bailly guffawed. Agreeing with his grandson “What are you doing?” he said.

Father Bryan Picked up his staff, and followed the officers to their own wagon.“I'm not sure yet. But this is something that demands my immediate attention. I must go. I'll be sure to get back to you when I figure this out.

***

Jake was expecting a cold prison cell, so he was quite surprised when he was locked in a cozy room with couches. Jake sat in a chair, and rubbed his sore face, going over the event in his head. What could possibly happen next? Did he really do anything wrong? or is he just here because of the– What does he even call it? Magic? He paced around the room. It was odd. Even now he could feel it. Some kind of power he never felt before, and now it purred like a kitten. He tried to summon it while waiting in the room, but for whatever reason nothing was happening. Even on the brink of boredom, he tried bargaining. “I just want to see what you can do...” he pleaded. “Come on. Come on please?” It was to no avail. What if they thought his power was something evil? Was he in danger?

No, don't get ahead of yourself he thought. They just have questions, and as long as he cooperates everything will be fine, he hoped. His mind went to Ella. He hoped she was ok. She is the only thing that he cares about now, and if he could he would use his power to escape and see her now, but that might just get her in trouble, and he couldn't have that.

Outside he heard an interaction with the guards, the door clicked open, and walked in Father Bryan. This man who had a cheerful demeanor earlier seemed to be older, and had a somber expression.

“Jake” He mustered a smile, “Tell me. Are you comfortable?”

“I, uh– yeah, I'm comfortable,” he said. Despite his circumstances, he thought.

“Good. I apologize for your arrest. I assume you understand that it was necessary?”

“Necessary? No, I don't understand how it was necessary, actually.” Jake said

“If you will be patient, and answer some questions, you may find the answer. First, Who are you, Jake?”

“I'm Jake.” he replied.

Father Bryan rubbed the bridge of his nose. Of course he could have avoided that. “Can you tell me what happened? How did it happen?”

Jake took a second to really think about it. “I– don't know... Honest.”

“Where are you from, Jake?”

Jake took another second to respond. It made Father Bryan tilt his head “I don't remember.” Jake said

Father Bryan could see his confusion. “What do you mean? Explain.”

“I only remember waking up in the middle of nowhere,” Jake said

“And before then you don't remember anything?”

Jake was hesitant to respond. “I know it doesn't make sense.”

Father Bryan took a cloth from his coat, and wiped the sweat from his brow. It was more of a distraction to keep from his shaking hands showing. “So, the thing you did. Have you done that before?”

“That was the first time. I was just as surprised as you were .” Jake said.

Father Bryan stood up, and paced around the room hands behind his back. He glanced at Jake pondering.

Jake's stomach started to feel queasy “Am I in trouble or something?”

“Trouble? No, It's just a conundrum. I am just trying to figure out how to solve it.”

“Maybe you can tell me what's on your mind?” Jake said.

Father Bryan nodded in agreement. “Jake, are you aware that the only people who possess that kind of power are the royal families?”

“Excuse me. who?” Jake said.

“I mean you're human, that would obviously be the Third Kingdom, but you're much too tall.

“Wait, go back. Are you saying I might be Royalty?”

“A secret of the royal family, A bastard. No offense, but it's not uncommon unfortunately. Your memory makes it quite impossible to discern which family brushed you under the rug. You don't have any memories at all before you were found on the road, any clue?

Jake shook his head. “Only memories I have are when I woke up.”

Father Bryan couldn't help but think there was something more, but his discernment couldn't make anything of it. He would have to take him at his word. “I believe there is a way we can settle this. It has become more than my station allows, so I believe we must take this to the Steward.”

“The Steward? Whose that?”

“Who is that?” Father Bryan was taken aback, the poor bastard really has forgotten everything. “I mean the Royal High priest, The Steward of the First Kingdom.”

***

The servant politely gestured for Jake, and Father Bryan to enter the room, and Jake felt a stifled awe walking inside. He thought the last place was fancy, this room was on a whole other level. The couches were fastened with gold, the armrests adorned with rubies and carved with immaculate patterns. The room itself had all manner of arraignment that was gold, and silver, and satin. The worth of this room could buy the farm a hundred fold. Father Bryan suggested that he sit down, but how could he? His presence was an insult to the carpet he walked on. He was reluctant to sully the furniture, but he sat down anyways. It was uncomfortable at first, but that quickly melted away in the soft cushion.

A servant entered with a serving dish, and offered them tea. Jake felt hesitant, but simply followed Father Bryan's casual demeanor. Father Bryan poured from a glossy porcelain teapot, covered in vibrant colors of red, and purple. He added cubes of sugar to Jake's tea, and they sipped as they waited. Jake became more courageous as he tasted the pastries. He was astonished. They were so sweet, and spongy. He could no longer hold his restraint. When would he ever eat like this again!

A second servant came in and announced that the Royal Steward had arrived. An old minotaur walked in, hunched over from years of responsibility. He greatly leaned on his staff that bore his weight majestically. Jake could see by Father Bryan's change in posture, and twinkle in his eye, that this old minotaur was not steward by chance, but from being the most respected member in the monastery, Father Bryan stood up, and directed Jake to do the same. His Excellence tilted his head slightly in acknowledgment. Father Bryan bowed his entire torso. “Great Steward, thank you so much for meeting us. I am honored.”

The Steward held his hand out and patted the air dismissively“Yes yes, thank you.” His voice was feeble, and gentle “I hurried as soon as I could. It is curious news you have brought me. I must see it for myself. Is this the boy?”

If Jake heard boy one more time. young man would at least be dignified. He thought.

“What is your name, son?” the Steward said.

That was better at least. Then again Jake was deflated. It's not like he could say anything about it. He was standing in front of 'The Steward.' “Jake.. uh Sir” he said, fumbling to sound proper. The Steward's voice though soft, held an audience, and demanded attention.

The Steward nodded “Father Bryan has given me the great details of these events, so can you show me the powers you have?”

“I haven't been able to,” Jake said.

“I'm sure with practice it might come to you. Surely this is a puzzle, but don't worry. This is not my first rodeo.”

Jake blinked twice. Is that something a Steward would say? He thought.

The Steward snapped his finger, and the servant came in close, lending him an ear. A couple of whispers beyond Jake's hearing were said, and then the Servant left, returning moments later with a box.

The Steward continued “Not surprising, but this has not been the first time that a child of royalty has been– misplaced.” He smiled gently so as to not take the notion lightly. “Silly rulers think they can just do whatever they please, and maybe just brush the problem under the rug. It has from time to time, been a need for the church to discover one's origin, and return them to their rightful house, and said rulers can be held accountable for their actions.”

“How is that possible?” Jake said.

“With this artifact.” Said the Steward, reaching his hand into the box, and pulling out an orb. “This is the Oracle. A crystal given to the church from Dura herself. At least that's what Scriptures say. It has been with us for many centuries, and among its many talents it can discern where your blood line lies. Maybe it can Jog your memory too?”

Jake was hesitant. I mean the ball might do that, but does he really want to know what it has to say? What if we learn something we don't want to know? The Steward placed the Oracle in a metal base made for it.

“Jake, place your hands on the Oracle.”

Jake reluctantly placed his hand on the ball, and waited for something to happen. The steward placed his hand on the ball as well. And hummed a vibrating rhythm that sounded like a melody rising, and falling to a beautiful sound of music. He could feel the vibration of the power that the Steward had, communicating with Jake's own power like some kind of telekinetic link. Some kind of language passed between them, and the ball began to glow. Jake watched the ball intently as the glowing white ball began to show shapes, or rather those shapes turned into them. He could see himself, and the Steward sitting at the table hands on the Oracle. He had to look around to see where this invisible eye was, but he traced back to the image that zoomed out, zipping outside the room and rising high above the kingdom. It was incredible, and magical. The view kept zooming out, and then the view blurred like it was racing across the world.

The Steward stayed focused, not surprised at all by the reactions of the ball, until the ball's view zoomed to the stars. Jake and he both were spellbound, gaping, and watching as the stars were bending, and forming together, and then Jake saw a woman that didn't look quite like he'd expect a woman to look like, but he was sure of one thing in that quick moment she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

The light exploded into a white hot color that filled the room, and Jake felt it like a force emitting from the artifact. The light faded, and the Ball became silent. The Steward dropped his hands onto the table his Jaw hanging wide open.

“Your Excellence!?” Father Bryan said concerned. He rushed to the Steward's aid, holding the minotaur up in his chair.

“Dear God,” he said, looking at Jake like he had seen a ghost. “Praise the Almighty!” The Steward looked into the heavens reaching for them.

Father Bryan's hand was on his broach, but really, clutching his heart. “What did you see?”

The Steward pointed at Jake. “He has been Chosen.”

“Chosen?” Father Bryan said confused, but then it dawned on him the meaning. A breeze brushed his face. A breeze? In a closed room? It reminded him of the breeze that entered his dormitory, the taunting smell that encouraged him to go to Demont, that led him to Bailly, and the boy. It can't be a coincidence. Can it?

Jake was stuck in a stupor, “The Chosen? Chosen for what?”

Father Bryan sat back down, bringing out his neckerchief to wipe the imaginary sweat from his brow. “Sir, do you mean the Chosen from the prophecy?”

Jake raised an eyebrow, “Prophecy? What prophecy?” Jake, continued to feel the stupor, and relaxed in his chair waiting for the truth.

Father Bryan interjected “Perhaps we should explain, the poor boy has lost all his memories. I'm uncertain he knows much of anything about church gospel.”

Jake nodded, “Yeah lets go with that.”

The Steward agreed, after he took the Oracle and respectfully placed it inside the box and began to spin his yarn, as they say. “Jake, The First Kingdom doesn't have a Monarch. It is instead governed by the Church. Do you know why?”

Jake had to think about it for a moment, but shook his head. “Why is it like that?”

“Our answer is in the Holy Chronicler,” the Steward said humbly. “Dura Created the world we live on, and gave this world to her twelve children. The very twelve who established the Kingdoms we have today, and The First Brother led them in a golden era of prosperity.”

“Until The Second Brother got greedy, right? The Darklings.” Jake felt the tone in his voice change involuntarily. It brought painful memories.

“Quite right. Perhaps you do know some things. After the Second Brother killed the First, war was imminent, and he lost, banished to his realm.”

“Let me guess. After the war they couldn't decide who would fill the First Brother's chair? Sounds familiar,” Jake said.

The steward nodded. “And Dura could no longer stay her anger against her greedy children. She would have destroyed everything, but the ten remaining pleaded with her to stop.”

“Well, we're still here, so she stopped?” Jake said.

“On one condition. She would govern over them, until one day she would choose a leader.”

The steward smiled. “For three thousand years the Church has orchestrated the will of God. All for this moment.”

“This moment? Wait!” he stood up, nearly knocking his chair over. “Chosen! I'm the chosen leader?!”

The steward grinned humbly. Nodding “Yes, Jake.”

Jake's words tumbled from his mouth in disbelief “Me?– But why I'd be a terrible leader. You have been doing great. Why do I have to be in charge? You have the experience, I– In charge? Of all twelve kingdoms?”

“I am but a Steward, Jake. A placeholder for the King that Dura delivered to us.”

“She needs to reconsider. How could I possibly,” Jake said.

“Because you're a God, Jake.”

Jake, recoiled. “Uh, did you say a God?”

“A God, Jake. I saw it in the Oracle. You have a power given to you by Dura herself.”

“That can't be right. Gods are all powerful, I'm just a guy.” Jake slumped back into his chair

“I don't know, Jake, but you are the most powerful being on Duranth since the the time of the Siblings. You were made for this.”

“Made for this?” he echoed. “How is that possible?” he put his head in his hands. “That wouldn't explain anything at all.” he said more to himself in a hushed tone.

“The kingdoms have been independent for a long time. It won't be easy, but they must recognize you as their emperor.”

Jake's face flushed. “How am I supposed to get them to join my empire? I'm a nobody.”

“You have the Church's support. That is a start,” The Steward said. “We must alert the Kingdoms immediately and begin a council. During our wait I shall entrust someone to prepare you for what may be the most challenging feat beset before you. A royal confidant, who you can confide in.” The steward directed to Father Bryan. “Father Bryan, I will give this assignment to you.”

Father Bryan's eyes grew wide, “Me?” he said, “But why me? Could I really be the man for the Job?”

The Steward got a chuckle. “Brother, It is because of you, that the miracle has happened. You were chosen to find our King, and I believe Dura has great plans for you.”

Father Bryan's heart skipped a beat. Dura the Almighty God having grand plans for him? It was touching, but also like receiving the world on your shoulders.

The steward heaved out of his Chair, and leaned on his trusty cane. “You two will do great things, and I hope that I will be there to witness them. For now I must leave you. Prepare, and understand that in the coming month, you will be standing before 10 of the most powerful beings on the planet. Father Bryan, teach him politics he is going to need it, and Jake. Learn your Magic. Goodbye.”

The Steward accompanied by his servant left the room, leaving Father Bryan and Jake wide eyed looking at each other in amazement

Jake was the first to speak. “Not what you thought was going to happen today huh?”

Father Bryan had to chuckle a little bit. “No, most certainly not, but this is something worth writing down for the history books.”

In the dark of the night it was absolutely silent in the monastery, and not a peep could be heard, except a constant scratching of a quill. Father Bryan sat at his desk, scribbling away under the light of a nearly burned out candle, and found the sound quite soothing. It was the sound of progress as he copied page after page from a book that had seen the last of its days. The poor thing was in desperate need of renovation, and the project was on his mind so much that he couldn't finish sleeping. He didn't mind rising early, because this was one of his more enjoyable duties as a cleric. He took great pride making sure every last page looked as good or better than the original.

One final dip in the ink, and one more sentence added, he placed the pen down, and examined the page in the light. He blew on it to insure it doesn't bleed, then placed it on the others to dry. One more page down he grabbed another, and started again anew. This page was going to be different. Using his skills in art he painstakingly created an ink wash replica. He took great care to encapsulate the details down to the very stroke. He had a talent for the arts, and surely this is what he was born for. Art wasn't his only interest however. History had always been a fascination of his, and looking back were centuries of life lessons that shaped how we see our lives today. Like this story for example.

A long time ago after the twelve kingdoms were well established around the world of Duranth, the third kingdom, the human kingdom, started a civil war. A rebellious group of humans led by a man named Hromanger fled into the mountains to be a free people, and fought for their freedoms for many decades. Later in history they would be known to be the first Dwarves. The Dwarves became a very prideful people, and the war would have continued till their very destruction, but King Arodin the eighth son to be born in war reached his hand out in peace.

Father Bryan finished the illustration, and examined it as a whole. It portrayed a wedding. A royal wedding between Arodin's son, and his beautiful bride, the daughter of Hromanger the fifth. They held hands while standing underneath an arch that Father Bryan imagined was cut from white marble, fastened together with gold rings, and decorated with blossoms of many variety. Truly a wedding fit for a king. He couldn't help but wonder how the kiss went. Did the groom hunch over, or did the bride step on a box? He laughed at the thought, and with a sigh he appreciated the Priest who took great care to immortalize this moment. He often thinks of the day when he may join them in the after life. Oh the conversations they will have.

One more page finished, and it occurred to him that the candle had finally gone out. He didn't realize, because the sun had been spilling in from the window. “Morning already?” He said. With an incredible stretch, and a yawn he decides that it is time for him to fetch his breakfast.

Unbeknownst to Father Bryan great workings were afoot, and a breeze blew through the window bringing with it sweet smells of freshly baked bread that delighted his nostrils. Oh how much he loves baked sweet bread; Banana bread, Orange bread, Blueberry bread. Oh! Fruits in bread made his mouth water. He knew there was only one place that could satisfy his craving. He must go visit Demont at his shop. He is a master of pastries.

He pulled himself from his chair grunting, and bending his back. Perhaps he had been in the chair too long. A walk would be good for him he thought. He grabbed his walking stick and wobbled out the door.

The dawn grew more and more, spilling into the halls of the monastery. The other occupants began to stir from their quarters, and marched their repeated morning ritual. Yawning politely, while trying to greet each other.

“Good morning Brother Bryan,” said Dalyn, another human in the monastery.

“Good morning. I trust you slept well?” He said while continuing to walk. Neither stopped to chat, but Dalyn did retort, “As well as my duty allows,” a common tort among the men of the cloth. How right you are he thought to himself. Others pass by, shaking off the sleep from their eyes, mustering a simple nod, and a sleepy smile.

Father Bryan exited the building and took a deep breath of green air, and he carried on his merry way, onto the grounds where the path lead to the gates. Each side had been decorated with blossoming shrubbery, and he noticed that the Gardner must have had an early rise as well, because he sleepily clipped away at the branches making them perfect, and presentable. There was no greater pride for a Gardner than a perfect garden.

The sun peaked over the steeples, casting light over the vast country side that they called Hareom. What a site to behold! The monastery sat at the highest spot as a beacon for the City to look up to, and many did with marvelous gratitude. The Church had given the people peace, and prosperity for the First Kingdom for many centuries.

walking down the cobblestone road he had a skip in his step, heading to the lower levels of the city to complete his quest. It was unfortunate that the markets couldn't be right outside the monastery, but this did make it enjoyable regardless. He looked forward to passing the other citizens, and perhaps he enjoyed it a little too much. Back home in the third kingdom the people were usually cold to those who followed the path of holiness, but here he barely noticed ill will. People were just so pleasant here.

While distracted with his thoughts a root snagged his robe, and he nearly tripped unto the paved road.

“Look out!” A man cried from his wagon, while his cargo full of barrels lost their support, and to the surprise of the crew, one large barrel landed in front of Father Bryan busting its insides onto the pavement. “Father, are you all right?” said the man on the wagon.

“Oh yes. Quite all right,” he responded with a chip on his shoulder. The wagoneer crinkled his eye brow, watching his employees standing around like bafoons, and gestured to the them “Can someone clean that up?” two men jumped into action quickly picking up the slabs, and the wagoneer softens, and addresses Father Bryan. “Apologies” he said sheepishly.

“Do not fret,” said Father Bryan. “No harm done, and you have a blessed day” The wagoneer smiled, tipped his hat, and returned to his work.

Father Bryan had gone the rest of the way with no further distractions to keep him from reaching Demont's shop. besides the occasional “Hello Father,” from the pedestrians. When he got view of the shop keeper's booth he could be see the seven foot minotaur tending to customers with a smile. Not much different from Men and Minotaur, except of course the horns sticking out of his head, and a tail. Demont was full of energy, and greeted father Bryan with a deep belly laugh. “Father!” he said excitedly, gesturing to Father Bryan. “Come come, I have delights a plenty, happy to see you. How are you, Father?” his demeanor was very contagious to say the least.

“Tired as usual, but nothing a pastry can't cure.” With twitchy fingers he happily grabbed a piece from the basket, tossing a copper coin, which Demont caught in his palm, and then he bit into the pastry. It had fulfilled all expectations. The Morsel melted in his mouth. It was Buttery, flaky, and it tasted like an orange. A hum of satisfaction escaped him. “Nobody can do them quite like you,” he said with a mouthful.

“Are you buttering me up? He said in a playful tone, “Well it's working,” he laughed again his contagious belly laugh “So Father, what is on the Itinerary, today?”

“Oh, not much today, I suppose. if I am out and about, I should check up on the friends I have been neglecting.”

“Ah, yes,” he stroked his goatee, remembering something. “Well if there is someone you have time for, you should go see Bailly.”

“Ah yes. It has been a while. I recall they had a funeral not too long ago. The Son in law was it?”

Demont sobered, leaning on the counter “Yeah, unfortunate heart attack, You never know when you are going to go, you know?

“Yes,” he replied thoughtfully, touching the broach tacked over his heart. Giving a silent prayer that he has said so many times in his life that it has became reactionary. They would say often to themselves 'Let her will be done, amen, amen.' A reminder that this world is not permanent, and we should enjoy the time we have. God's plan continues for us whether we like it or not.

Demont tips his horn. “When you see him, give him my grievances again. We think of them often my wife and I.”

“I most certainly will, Demont. See you at the next craving, maybe sooner.”

“Please take some of these for the road. On me,” he hands a bundle ready to go for Father Bryan. “Thank you kindly.” he said placing the bag in a safe robe pocket.

Demont nodded and gave a soft wave goodbye before he got distracted by another sale.

Father Bryan had another lengthy trek ahead of him outside the city. If he were to walk it, might have taken him half the day. He didn't mind. It was beautiful outside, and found that this was a great opportunity to take in Gods bounty, but much to his surprise a wagoneer was heading on the same path. The wagoneer insisted that he could drop him off on the way. He also liked to talk, and ramble on about anything, much of nothing really, the on goings of his travels, and when they finally reached the tip of Bailly's farm the wagoneer declared Father Bryan an invited guest in his home, if he ever travels in that area. “Enjoy your journey, Friend” Father Bryan said, waving the wagoneer goodbye.

He stood before the dirt road with miles of field on either side. On one side was fields of wheat, white and ready to harvest, and on the other cattle were grazing away. It wasn't long till the workers saw his silhouette in the distance. most of the workers were sweeping the field, hard at work, cutting down the stocks with their sickles, and once Father Bryan was finally in ear shot of the workers they gave him a proper greeting, “Heyo!”

One leaned on his sickle, chewing on his make shift wheat toothpick “Hello Father, I'm Sal. Are you looking for Bailly?”

“I am. Is he here?” said Father Bryan.

“Sure thing.” He whistled from his fingers, and the other men looked up. “Talo, where's your Gramps?

Talo a young boy shrugged his shoulders, “By the barn maybe?”

Sal, waited patiently for something more, but Talo with his blank expression seemed quite satisfied with his answer. Sal gave up waiting. “Well, maybe you could go check? Tell em we got company, and make it quick.”

Talo happy to oblige, dropped his sickle, and jogged away.

“That boy is the grandson? He has grown up so much.” said Father Bryan

“Yeah, boy sure is growing fast. He wants to help his Momma with the Harvest Festival this year, said he can hang out with Friends on another day. Such a good kid. You plannin on the festival?”

“Counting the days. Who wouldn't?” he said.

“Hey Grandpa!” Talo's voice echoed, then moments later Bailly came visible by the Corals with a big smile. Sal lifted his Sickle and started cutting again, “You have your self a good day Father.”

“Good day,” he replied back.

Bailly tipped his horn to Father Bryan, and greeted him with a two hand grasp.

“It's been a while, eh? The Monastery keeps you busy as always?”

They walked back to the corral for a fence to lean on. “It's been taxing, but none the less it has been rewarding.” Father Bryan replied “And you? Demont sends his regards, How has everything been sense the Funeral?”

Bailly rubbed his callused hands together. “It's quite all right, we are doing what we can.”

“How is your daughter doing?” Father Bryan said.

Bailly was hesitant to reply “She has been doin better. Has had her mind occupied lately.” Bailly turned his attention to inside the corral, and gave a nod. Father Bryan looked to see what he meant, and Inside a human man was combing the dust out of a horse's coat. Father Bryan watched the boy. Raven black hair, noticeably young, square Jaw, and a big smile while he brushed away.

“Who is the boy?” he said.

“That's Jake.” said Bailly “Ella finished a delivery in the Fifth Kingdom, and found the poor boy on the road side inches from death.”

Father Bryan touched his broach. “Darklings?”

Bailly nodded, “He was ambushed, and was the only survivor.”

Oh, blessed Dura. You sent her to the Fifth Kingdom? Where is your sense man?”

Bailly looked appalled “Me? She insisted! Besides she was in safe territory, only reason why I agreed. And I think she needed it to get away for a while. It might have helped. I did notice a change in her.”

The door to the barn smacked open, and Ella came out, holding a bucket and ladle, meeting the boy inside the corral. She crawled through the fence, and waved at Father Bryan, and her Father, with a contagious smile. She was a beautiful young Minotaur with platinum hair, and spots of brown blended with her pale complexion. She was a highly desirable young woman. uh– of course only meaning that among her people she is highly sought after. He blushed as he realized he was staring. The boy took the ladle, and Father Bryan couldn't help, but notice in that moment how happy they were. Maybe, he thought with out question, perhaps God can make good through tragedies.

That moment fled quickly however when Bailly looked far up the road, and a dust cloud twirled into the sky, following a wagon in a hurry. “What in Darnation?”

Ella and Jake had noticed as well, and stepped out of the corral curious about the dust cloud.

Father Bryan spoke “Bailly, who are those people?”

Talo popped out of nowhere. “Hey Grandpa it's uncle Garrett! Oooh, he looks mad.”

On the wagon Garrett had company, and Bailly began to sweat. “Sal, You better go get an Officer in case there's trouble.”

“On it Chief,” said Sal. “Talo, Let's go.”

“Hold on I want to see what's up” said Talo

“Go on, Talo,” said Bailly

Talo groaned, and followed Sal into the barn. They stormed out on a huge horse. Talo waved at his uncle as they passed by.

“Do you suspect trouble?” Father Bryan asked

Bailly adjusted his pants. “It's hard to say, but it doesn't look like a friendly visit.”

The Wagon stopped abruptly, and the Horses whinnied, pawing at the ground, after their brisk race. Garrett locked eyes on Ella, and stormed towards her. “ELLA!” Garrett bellowed. He huffed and puffed. “MY brother isn't even cold in the ground and I hear you are philandering with a Human!”

“Now hold on Gar-” said Bailly, but he couldn't finish. Garrett stared at him gritting his teeth, and crazy eyes “Bailly, What is this?” You allow this boy on your farm, to take who is rightfully mine?

“Yours?!” Ella said quite confused, and quite rightly appalled “I'm nobodies.”

“It's law, Ella.”

“Father Bryan can you not do something?” said Bailly.

Father Bryan calmly reached for Bailly's Arm “I can't. By Minatourian law, he is obligated to take his late brother's wife.”

“I've let you mourn long enough, now you're coming with me, and you will serve in my house.” Garrett marched ahead, he was going to take Ella even if he had to carry her, but Jake stepped in front, glaring at Garrett “Get out of my way boy.”

“She is not coming with you,” Jake said

The seven foot Minotaur stood taller, and grinned. “You can't do anything to keep me from her, boy.”

“He can challenge,” Father Bryan spoke as a matter of fact.

Garrett frowned. “But he is not a Minotaur!”

“That has never been the case. Anyways there is only one way to settle this.”

Bailly looked shocked at the words he herd. “Father, really? You're fine with this?”

“Ok I challenge.” Jake said “How are these disputes settled?”

Ella, horrified, gave Jake a look, like he said the dumbest thing. “No Jake, You can't!” she didn't get another word in, while her father was quick to grab her and pull her back.

Garrett cracked his knuckles “Fine! Lets get this over with.”

“Oh–” Jake moved as Garrett swung a punch right for Jake's head, quick reflexes saved him, ducking underneath, and crashing an elbow in Garrett's rib. Garrett expelled an “Oof,” Bringing his elbow down on Jake, which knocked him down on all fours, Garrett kicked, missing Jake by a hair as he rolled away, and he used the momentum of his roll to get back up. Garrett locked his fists together, and swung them around like a mace, Finally landing a strike in Jake's face, and knocked him off balance. Ella yelped, and a second hit knocked him down. A hoof came down onto his chest. Jake groaned, expelling all the air out of this lungs, and was going to get another stomp, before he rolled away again.

Off in the distance a wagon was leaving a cloud of dust in it's wake, Sal had returned leading a wagon full of officers.

Garrett ran at Jake, throwing punches, and getting redder in the face, while Jake evaded each one. Garrett swung wide. Jake ducked underneath again for a rib jab, but a knee comes up into his face. Garrett grabbed his shirt to hold him still for a rally of punches. Jake twisted his body around and hugged Garrett's arm pulling him off balance, and throwing him over his shoulder, landing Garrett on the ground with a noisy thud. On the ground with the wind knocked out of him, Jake kicked him in the face. That felt personal. Garrett grabbed Jake's ankle before a second kick and pushed him off. You could see the red madness in his eyes. Garrett barrel rolled onto all fours, and one quick motion kicked himself off the ground in a charge, horns down to impale Jake, and with a Minatourian rage Garrett flails horn and fist into Jake. Jake gets cut by a sweeping horn, and a punch gives him a swollen eye.

The Officers arrived ready to stop the commotion, but Father Bryan told them to wait, declaring his authority in the church, and explaining the situation. Ella held her hands over her mouth holding back tears, praying Jake could survive. Of coarse how could he? she thought. How could Jake possibly win a Minotaur in a brawl! She could see the maddening Smile on Garrett's face. He started to enjoy the fight.

Jake was losing steam unable to keep up with the barrage of rage, and he fell to the ground breathing heavily, bloody and bruised.

Garrett stood over him triumphant. “Was it worth it!” Garrett yelled. “You can't even protect her. Why should you have her?”

Jake swallowed the blood. “She deserves better. Your brother was a terrible husband.”

He kicks Jake in the stomach. “You didn't know him.”

he coughed blood. “Ella told me all about him. The drinking, the other woman. The abuse.”

He kicked him again. “What my brother did was his own business.”

“You don't care? Ella is just another wife to you isn't she? if I lose she'll live that life again?”

Garrett had to smile at that. “You lost boy.” Garrett squeezed his hand into a tight fist.

Ella struggled against her Father, “No! Stop! Let me go!” she cried.

Garrett swung down. The punch would have crushed his skull, but Jake held his hands up, shielding him from the punch, and a flash came from his palms that blinded everyone. Garrett screamed as he flew through the air and crashed into the barn collapsing in the rubble, and passing out.

For a second the world froze, and all jaws dropped. Bailly, overcoming his astonishment commanded them to get Garrett off his farm. The Officers picked him up, and he groggily stepped with them into Garrett's Wagon. They sent the gang off with a few officers in tow.

Father Bryan dropped his staff. What did he just see? His heart was pulsing, and the sound left him. He stared at the boy in awe. Jake stood there looking at his hands in wonderment. Ella ran to him nearly knocking him over, embracing him. It hurt, but he didn't care. Talo said something, but it was only static.

Father Bryan with a shaky hand commanded with authority “Officer, detain that boy, take him to the Monastery.”

The officers nodded, and two of them, grabbed Jake. Ella tried to hold on, but Jake assured her “It's okay, Ella.” he said. He winced as they grasp him roughly, “Hey! Easy. It's tender.”

Talo frowned “He didn't do anything wrong!”

Bailly guffawed. Agreeing with his grandson “What are you doing?” he said.

Father Bryan Picked up his staff, and followed the officers to their own wagon.“I'm not sure yet. But this is something that demands my immediate attention. I must go. I'll be sure to get back to you when I figure this out.

***

Jake was expecting a cold prison cell, so he was quite surprised when he was locked in a cozy room with couches. Jake sat in a chair, and rubbed his sore face, going over the event in his head. What could possibly happen next? Did he really do anything wrong? or is he just here because of the– What does he even call it? Magic? He paced around the room. It was odd. Even now he could feel it. Some kind of power he never felt before, and now it purred like a kitten. He tried to summon it while waiting in the room, but for what ever reason nothing was happening. Even on the brink of boredom, and he tried bargaining. “I just want to see what you can do...” he pleaded. “Come on. Come on please?” It was to no avail. What if they thought his power was something evil? was he in danger?

No, don't get ahead of yourself he thought. They just want questions, and as long as he cooperates everything will be fine, he hoped. His mind went to Ella. He hoped she was ok. She is the only thing that he cared about now, and if he could he would use his power to escape and see her now, but that might just get her in trouble, and he couldn't have that.

Outside he herd an interaction with the guards, the door clicked open, and walked in Father Bryan. This man who had a cheerful demeanor earlier seemed to be older, and had a somber expression.

“Jake” He mustered a smile, “Do tell. Are you comfortable?”

“I, uh– yeah, I'm comfortable,” he said. Despite his circumstance, he thought.

“Good. I apologize for your arrest. I assume you understand that it was necessary?”

“Necessary? No I don't understand how it was necessary actually.” Jake said

“If you will be patient, and answer some questions, you may find the answer. First, Who are you, Jake?”

“I'm Jake.” he replied.

Father Bryan rubbed the bridge of his nose. Of coarse he could have avoided that. “Can you tell me what happened. How did it happen?”

Jake took a second to really think about it. “I– don't know... Honest.”

“Where are you from, Jake?”

Jake took another second to respond. It made Father Bryan tilt his head “I don't remember.” Jake said

Father Bryan could see his confusion. “What do you mean? Explain.”

“I only remember waking up in the middle of no where,” Jake said

“And before then you don't remember anything?”

Jake was hesitant to respond. “I know it doesn't make sense.”

Father Bryan took a cloth from his coat, and wiped the sweat from his brow. It was more of a distraction to keep from his shaking hands showing. “So, the thing you did. Have you done that before?”

“That was the first time. I was just as surprised as you are.” Jake said.

Father Bryan stood up, and paced around the room hands behind his back. He glanced at Jake pondering.

Jake's stomach started to feel queasy “Am I in trouble or something?”

“Trouble? No, It's just a conundrum. I am just trying to figure out how to solve it.”

“Maybe you can tell me what's on your mind?” Jake said.

Father Bryan nodded in agreement. “Jake, are you aware that the only people who possess that kind of power are the royal families?”

“Excuse me. who?” Jake said.

“I mean you're human that would obviously be the Third Kingdom, but you're much too tall.

“Wait, go back. Are you saying I might be Royalty?”

“A secret of the royal family, A bastard. No offense, but it's not uncommon unfortunately. Your memory makes it quite impossible to discern which family brushed you under the rug. You don't have any memories at all before you were found on the road, any clue?

Jake shook his head. “Only memories I have are when I woke up.”

Father Bryan couldn't help but think there was something more, but his discernment couldn't make anything of it. He would have to take him at his word. “I believe there is a way we can settle this. It has become more than my station allows, so I believe we must take this to the Steward.”

“The Steward? Whose that?”

“Who is that?” Father Bryan was taken aback, the poor bastard really has forgotten everything. “I mean the Royal High priest, The Steward of the First Kingdom.”

***

The servant politely gestured for Jake, and Father Bryan to inter the room, and Jake felt a stifled awe walking inside. He thought the last place was fancy, this room was on a whole other level. The couches were fastened with gold, the arm rests adorned with rubies and carved with immaculate patterns. The room itself had all manner of arraignment that was gold, and silver, and satin. The worth of this room could buy the farm a hundred fold. Father Bryan suggested that he sat down, but how could he? His presence was an insult to the carpet he walked on. He was reluctant to sully the furniture, but he sat down anyways. It was uncomfortable at first, but that quickly melted away in the soft cushion.

A servant entered with a serving dish, and offered them tea. Jake felt hesitant, but simply followed Father Bryan's casual demeanor. Father Bryan poured from a glossy porcelain teapot, covered in vibrant colors of red, and purple. he added cubes of sugar to Jake's tea, and they sipped as they waited. Jake became more courageous as he tasted the pastries. He was astonished. They were so sweet, and spongy. He could no longer hold his restraint. When would he ever eat like this again!

A second servant came in and announced that the Royal Steward had arrived. An old minotaur walked in, hunched over from years of responsibility. He greatly leaned on his staff that bore his weight majestically. Jake could see by Father Bryan's change in posture, and twinkle in his eye, that this old minotaur was not steward by chance, but from being the most respected member in the monastery, Father Bryan stood up, and directed Jake to do the same. His Excellence tilted his head slightly in acknowledgment. Father Bryan bowed his entire torso. “Great Steward, thank you so much for meeting us. I am honored.”

The Steward held his hand out and patted the air dismissively“Yes yes, thank you.” His voice was feeble, and gentle “I hurried as soon as I could. It is curious news you have brought me. I must see it for myself. Is this the boy?”

If Jake herd boy one more time. young man would at least be dignified. He thought.

“What is your name, son?” the Steward said.

That was better at least. Then again Jake was deflated. Its not like he could say anything about it. He was standing in front of 'The Steward.' “Jake.. uh Sir” he said, fumbling to sound proper. The Steward's voice though soft, held an audience, and demanded attention.

The Steward nodded “Father Bryan had given me the great detail of these events, so can you show me the powers you have?”

“I haven't been able to,” Jake said.

“I'm sure with practice it might come to you. Surely this is a puzzle, but don't worry. This is not my first rodeo.”

Jake blinked twice. Is that something a Steward would say? He thought.

The Steward snapped his finger, and the servant came in close, lending him an ear. A couple of whispers beyond Jake's hearing were said, and then the Servant left, returning moments later with a box.

The Steward continued “Not surprising, but this has not been the first time, that a child of royalty has been– misplaced.” He smiled gently as to not take the notion lightly. “Silly rulers think they can just do whatever they please, and maybe just brush the problem under the rug. It has from time to time, been a need for the church to discover ones origin, and return them to their rightful house, and said rulers can be held accountable for their actions.”

“How is that possible?” Jake said.

“With this artifact.” Said the Steward, reaching his hand into the box, and pulling out an orb. “This is the Oracle. A crystal given to the church from Dura herself. At least that's what Scriptures say. It has been with us for many centuries, and among its many talents it can discern where your blood line lies. Maybe it can Jog your memory too?”

Jake was hesitant. I mean the ball might do that, but does he really want to know what it has to say? What if we learn something we don't want to know? The Steward placed the Oracle in a metal base made for it.

“Jake, place your hands on the Oracle.”

Jake reluctantly placed his hand on the ball, and waited for something to happen. The steward placed his hand on the ball as well. And hummed a vibrating rhythm that sounded like a melody rising, and falling to a beautiful sound of music. He could feel the vibration of the power that the Steward had, communicating with Jake's own power like some kind of telekinetic link. Some kind of language passed between them, and the ball began to glow. Jake watched the ball intently as the the glowing white ball began to show shapes, or rather those shapes turned into them. He could see himself, and the Steward sitting at the table hands on the Oracle. He had to look around to see where this invisible eye was, but he traced back to the image that zoomed out, zipping outside the room and rising high above the kingdom. It was incredible, and magical. The view kept zooming out, and then the view blurred like it was racing across the world.

The Steward stayed focused not surprised at all by the reactions of the ball, until the ball's view zoomed to the stars. Jake and he both were spellbound, gaping, and watching as the stars were bending, and forming together, and then Jake saw a woman that didn't look quite like he'd expect a woman to look like, but he was sure of one thing in that quick moment she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

The light exploded into a white hot color that filled the room, and Jake felt it like a force emitting from the artifact. The light faded, and the Ball became silent. The Steward dropped his hands onto the table his Jaw hanging wide open.

“Your Excellence!?” Father Bryan said concerned. He rushed to the Stewards aid, holding the minotaur up in his chair.

“Dear God,” he said, looking at Jake like he had seen a ghost. “Praise the Almighty!” The Steward looked into the heavens reaching for them.

Father Bryan's hand was on his broach, but really, clutching his heart. “What did you see?”

The Steward pointed at Jake. “He has been Chosen.”

“Chosen?” Father Bryan said confused, but then it dawned on him the meaning. A breeze brushed his face. A breeze? In a closed room? It reminded him of the breeze that entered his dormitory, the taunting smell that encouraged him to go to Demont, that led him to Bailly, and the boy. It can't be a coincidence. Can it?

Jake was stuck in a stupor, “The Chosen? Chosen for what?”

Father Bryan sat back down, bringing out his neckerchief to wipe the imaginary sweat from his brow. “Sir, do you mean the Chosen from the prophecy?”

Jake raised an eye brow, “Prophecy? What prophecy.” Jake, continued to feel the stupor, and relaxed in his chair waiting for the truth.

Father Bryan interjected “Perhaps we should explain, the poor boy has lost all his memories. I'm uncertain he knows much of anything of church gospel.”

Jake nodded, “Yeah lets go with that.”

The Steward agreed, after he took the Oracle and respectfully placed it inside the box and began to spin his yarn, as they say. “Jake, The First Kingdom doesn't have a Monarch. It is instead governed by the Church. Do you know why?”

Jake had to think about it for a moment, but shook his head. “Why is it like that?”

“Our answer is in the Holy Chronicler,” the Steward said humbly. “Dura Created the world we live on, and gave this world two her twelve children. The very twelve who established the Kingdoms we have today, and The First Brother lead them in a golden era of prosperity.”

“Until The Second Brother, got greedy right? The Darklings.” Jake felt the tone in his voice change involuntarily. It brought painful memories.

“Quite right. Perhaps you do know somethings. After the Second Brother killed the First, war was eminent, and he lost, banished to his realm.”

“Let me guess. After the war they couldn't decide who would fill the First Brother's chair? Sounds familiar,” Jake said.

The steward nodded. “And Dura could no longer stay her anger against her greedy children. She would have destroyed everything, but the ten remaining pleaded with her to stop.”

“Well, we're still here, so she stopped?” Jake said.

“On one condition. She would govern over them, until one day she would choose a leader.”

The steward smiled. “For three thousand years the Church has orchestrated the will of God. All for this moment.”

“This moment? Wait!” he stood up nearly knocking his chair over. “Chosen! I'm the chosen leader?!”

The steward grinned humbly. Nodding “Yes, Jake.”

Jake's words tumbled from his mouth in disbelief “Me?– But why I'd be a terrible leader. You have been doing great. Why do I have to be in charge? You have the experience, I– In charge? Of all twelve kingdoms?”

“I am but a Steward, Jake. A place holder for the King that Dura delivered to us.”

“She needs to reconsider. How could I possibly,” Jake said.

“Because you're a God, Jake.”

Jake, recoiled. “Uh, did you say a God?”

“A God, Jake. I saw it in the Oracle. You have a power given to you by Dura herself.”

“That can't be right. Gods are all powerful, I'm just a guy.” Jake slumped back into his chair

“I don't know, Jake, but you are the most powerful being on Duranth sense the the time of the Siblings. You were made for this.”

“Made for this?” he echoed. “How is that possible?” he put his head in his hands. “That wouldn't explain anything at all.” he said more to himself in a hushed tone.

“The kingdoms have been independent for a long time. It won't be easy, but they must recognize you as their emperor.”

Jake face flushed. “How am I suppose to get them to join my empire? I'm a nobody.”

“You have the Church's support. That is a start,” The Steward said. “We must alert the Kingdoms immediately and begin a council. During our wait I shall entrust someone to prepare you for what may be the most challenging feat beset before you. A royal confidant, who you can confide in.” The steward directed to Father Bryan. “Father Bryan, I will give this assignment to you.”

Father Bryan's eyes grew wide, “Me?” he said, “But why me? Could I really be the man for the Job?”

The Steward got a chuckle. “Brother, It is because of you, that the miracle has happened. You were chosen to find our King, and I believe Dura has great plans for you.”

Father Bryan's heart skipped a beat. Dura the Almighty God having grand plans for him? It was touching, but also like receiving the world on your shoulders.

The steward heaved out of his Chair, and leaned on his trusty cane. “You two will do great things, and I hope that I will be there to witness them. For now I must leave you. Prepare, and understand that in the coming month, you will be standing before 10 of the most powerful beings, on the planet. Father Bryan, teach him politics he is going to need it, and Jake. Learn your Magic. Good bye.”

The Steward accompanied by his servant left the room, leaving Father Bryan and Jake wide eyed looking at each other in amazement

Jake was the first to speak. “Not what you thought was going to happen today huh?”

Father Bryan had to chuckle a little bit. “No, most certainly not, but this is something worth writing down for the history books.”