Chosen
The capital pulsed with an ancient anticipation, a hum that vibrated through the gathered crowd. Every thousand years, the veil thinned, and a new avatar, a mortal vessel for a god or goddess, was revealed. This year, the whispers of the underworld's opening had intensified, making the ceremony less of a formality and more of a desperate plea for divine intervention.
I, Artemis Windward, hated these spectacles. They were always drawn-out affairs, filled with pomp and endless speeches. My mind, ever pragmatic, drifted to the mundane: the market, groceries, my mother’s perpetually unusual shopping list. Dried snake skin, indeed. Half an hour later, the capital’s representatives finally graced us with their presence. Alice, the courtier, a woman of impeccable poise and an infuriatingly slow cadence, stepped forward.
“Good day, citizens of our country,” Alice began, her voice resonating with practiced gravitas. “Congratulations on surviving another thousand years! As you know, today is when we find out who is the avatar of the goddess of war and wisdom, Athena.” My attention, predictably, waned after "wisdom." Government officials, in my experience, loved the sound of their own voices, stretching simple announcements into epic pronouncements.
It wasn't until the sacred animal of the millennium, the magnificent phoenix, was brought forth that my thoughts momentarily shifted from my grocery list. The creature, a vibrant tapestry of fiery feathers, ascended into the sky, its powerful wings stirring the air. Suddenly, a gust ruffled my hair. The phoenix was directly above me, its golden eyes seeming to pierce my very soul.
“What is your name, miss?” Alice’s voice cut through the murmuring crowd. She descended from the stage, the crowd parting like a ripple in a pond as she approached.
“Artemis Windward,” I replied, a strange calm settling over me as the phoenix, with a gentle flutter, landed on my shoulder, its warmth a comforting weight.
Alice led me to the stage, the collective gaze of the capital weighing heavily upon me. “Here we have it, folks! The champion of this millennium, sent from the gods, Artemis Windward!” Alice’s voice boomed, echoing through the square. “She shall meet with the mentor tomorrow, when the sun reaches its highest point!”
