Drawing back a holographic bowstring, Sage aimed at the target standing across the garden. His eyes went still as he stared at the bullseye. It already had dozens of flickering, luminescent arrows in it.
The shot he was currently preparing didn't feel right. Some stray factor wasn't lining up with the rest of them. Maybe the wind. Maybe his posture. Maybe something in his head. If he were to fire, he wouldn't be surprised if it ended up somewhere in the rose bushes.
Shaking his head, he lowered his bow and brushed the sable hair from his eyes. Then, in an abrupt motion, he aimed again. His heart jumped—that's how he knew his shot would be perfectly precise. Like a snake taking an opportunity to strike, he fired. The arrow hit the bullseye and shattered one already stuck in the target. He blew out a puff of wind and smiled faintly, a rare sight to see upon his face.
"Sage!" His mother, Grace, tapped his shoulder from behind. He startled and turned around with a murderous glare. She adopted her bright celebrity smile, confirming that she was just trying to annoy him. An image of a leaf adorned her face like permanent face paint: it was her birthmark, a symbol indicating one's birthright powers. Sage had the same one.
"Congrats," he said flatly. "You took advantage of my phobia once again."
"No one panics at a sneak attack quite like you." She giggled and handed him a plate of chocolate cake. "You've been practicing all day, so I brought you a treat."
"Do you think I'm a little boy?"
"Do I?" She held her hand above him, demonstrating his short stature. He was a little shorter than most girls his age. Despite this, he had two saving features that protected him from general derision and the ruthless torment of his peers: a beautiful face, inherited directly from his mother, and a cutting voice so deep and resonant that anyone he addressed was instantly relegated to the role of a servant speaking to a king. With such qualities, he considered his height a boon. It made him a smaller target.
"Whatever." He took a bite of the cake. "Did you need something?"
She said, "I'm leaving for my battle. Will you come and cheer for me?"
"Hmph, I'll watch the livestream."
"Again?"
"Again."
"I'm not expecting you to surpass me, you know."
"What's that supposed to mean?" He furrowed his eyebrows.
She softened her voice. "It's nice that you want to make me proud, but it's not the only thing I want."
"Everyone expects the son of a celebrity archer to be greater than his predecessor."
"I won't argue with you." She looked at the ground and sighed. "I'm visiting your cousins next week. Your response?"
"Practice."
"Of course." She hugged him. "Stop and breathe sometimes, okay?"
He hugged back loosely. "Sure thing, mom."
"And get your homework done. Art and archery won't get you A's."
After ruffling his hair, she strolled to the manor and disappeared inside. Sage glanced at his canvas in the garden's corner. He'd painted a quiver full of colorful arrows. With an exhale, he took another shot at the target—and scored a complete miss. Such a sign of imperfection frustrated him; top archers never miss the whole target.
But that just meant it was time for a break. Taking a deep breath, he sat on the garden wall and continued eating his cake. He extended his palm towards a holographic screen above the garden's fountain and guided it in front of him. When it activated, the screen displayed a theatrical duel between two celebrities famous for their skill.
One celebrity fighter manipulated time as he swung his rapier at his opponent. The other, comically dressed in a robe and wizard hat, kept her distance and hurled fireballs. Sage couldn't stand all the energetic music, intense narration, and colorful flashes involved in the production. With a flick of his wrist, he deactivated the screen. In about an hour, May would fight her own theatrical duel. He wasn't sure if he felt like watching.
Wiping his mouth, he grabbed his bow and hopped off the wall. As he aimed at the target, his intense focus gave him tunnel vision.
Something glimmered outside of his sight. A blazing flash illuminated everything. When he loosed his arrow, it flew into a marble pillar instead of the target.
Sage blinked and looked around. Twin doors stood at the end of a red carpet, made of glimmering gold. Marble pillars lined the sides. A palace. Groaning, he chalked up his abrupt transportation to a technological malfunction. A virtual reality device must've targeted the wrong person.
Someone cleared her throat. Eyebrows raised, he turned around. A woman in a glimmering golden gown reclined on a throne. Her wisps of brunette hair fell all the way to her ankles. Sage backed away from his apparent kidnapper.
"Do not run." The woman beckoned for him. "I hold no ill intent."
"Okay, stranger." He pushed the twin doors, but they didn't budge.
"You cannot escape. Come here, troublesome child."
"Sounds like a horrible idea."
"View my countenance. You will find I am not so strange, Sage Glory."
He glared at her before kicking the doors. With a thrust of her hand, she conjured a blinding flash in front of him. He shouted and covered his face.
"What's your problem?" He rubbed his watering eyes, his sight filled with colorful spots.
The woman huffed. "You are making this difficult. Hurry to me, lest I fully blind you."
"I'm excited to end up missing!"
"Still your tongue and move those feet."
Cursing under his breath, Sage drifted towards the woman. To his surprise, her face grew more familiar the closer he got. He couldn't remember where he'd seen her until he noticed the image of radiant light upon her cheek.
History class. That's where he'd seen her. She was the creator the world, or so he'd been taught. His male classmates had made a bunch of dumb comments about her appearance during that lesson. Despite her apparent divinity, she wasn't formally worshipped. The fact had always made Sage suspicious.
"Goddess Ayrelle?" he asked.
Ayrelle giggled. "Good, you do recognize me."
"Am I supposed to be excited? Worried? Why did you summon me?"
"I will not tell you much; that would be boring." She raised her chin. "But I need to appoint a hero."
He narrowed his eyes. "A hero?"
"Yes, a hero. And you—"
"I've watched enough shows to know what's going on." Sage held his palms up. "You're about to turn me into some kind of chosen one. What kind of joke is this?"
"This is no joke, but that does not mean I will not have fun with it."
"Of course you'd have fun. I'm the one about to get conscripted."
"Have you moved on from the denial phase yet?"
He scowled. "Does it matter?"
"Not at all." She cleared her throat. "As I was saying, you possess certain key qualities I desire. Yes, I've been watching you."
"Creep."
"Child. I hereby appoint you, Sage Glory, as my appointed servant-hero."
Golden flashes appeared around Sage and, with the sound of a party blower, barraged him with confetti. He remained still, an unimpressed look on his face.
"If you're serious about this, pick someone else. I'll tell you right now: I'm no hero."
She smiled. "No matter. If you lack certain heroic traits, I can force them to bloom within you."
He narrowed his eyes. "Force?"
"You'll see. Watching you save the world is sure to be interesting."
Sage spat on the marble floor. "Consider this my rejection of your offer."
Ayrelle's expression twisted hellishly. Cubes of golden energy gripped his chest, lifted him into the air, and slammed him against a pillar. He didn't feel any pain; everyone had a technological barrier that prevented it.
"Do not disrespect my sacred castle," she said through her teeth. "Do you want me to destroy your consciousness?"
Sage struggled midair, to no avail. "Ugh. If you really needed me, you wouldn't destroy my consciousness."
"Try me."
He beautified the floor with another shot of saliva. Ayrelle, pursing her lips, simply tossed him across the hall. After rolling a couple times, he struggled to his feet and supported himself against a pillar. He wanted to vomit.
The goddess teleported in front of him with a flash of light. "You do not have to make this so difficult."
"Screw you." He exhaled. "Why me, and not my mother?"
"I cannot say. Do you accept your appointment?"
"No."
Cubes of gold energy lifted him into the air. "Do you accept your appointment?"
"Why, yes!" He adopted an enthusiastic voice. "I, a fifteen year old student, am so excited to depart from my cozy life and embark on a journey of undisclosed contents! I can't wait to disappear from school and leave everyone wondering where I am!"
"Hmph, you should be an actor." She waved her hand, letting him to the ground. "You have higher priorities than school now."
With a sigh, he hung his head. "Send me away and tell me what to do. I just want to get this joke over with."
"I command you to stop calling it a joke."
"Doesn't change the fact I'll just be playing along."
She tilted her head. "Cheer up. I have a gift for you, little archer."
He looked up. Ayrelle was levitating a golden longbow above her hands. With an enthusiastic light in his eyes, he swiped it out of the air and examined the electronic screen on its handle. Every weapon had one.
"Is its arrow selection anything special?" He tapped the screen. It displayed a variety of colored arrows and a description of their effects.
"Perhaps." She smirked. "You accept my bow; you accept my appointment of you. Now it is official."
"Don't act like I had a choice. The bow's sleek, but it's just the treat you give to the guinea pig to make it happy."
"Was it a good treat, guinea pig?"
"At least you gave me one," he grumbled. "I really can't go back home?"
"The decision is final. Do you have any questions before I send you on your quest?"
"What am I saving the world from?"
"You'll find out, no?"
"You're not even going to tell me what I need to fight?"
"Yes."
"Insane. Am I going to get rewarded for this?"
"If you succeed. Now leave my presence."
Ayrelle snapped her fingers. Brilliant light enveloped Sage. His consciousness slipped away from him.