Max, Ava, and Boris sat huddled in the dim light of Max's office, maps and documents spread out before them. The atmosphere was tense, thick with the gravity of their mission. Every tick of the clock seemed to echo louder, a reminder that time was slipping away.
"We need to find the chosen one," Max said, his voice firm. "The prophecy mentioned a battle between light and darkness, and someone who would rise to fight the darkness. Dragovich was trying to summon the entity, but there was someone trying to stop him."
Ava nodded, her eyes scanning the maps. "The symbols we found at the first murder site—they point to someone with knowledge of protective magic. Someone who's been trying to counter Dragovich's rituals."
Boris rubbed his temples, deep in thought. "If we're to believe the prophecy, this chosen one has been here, in Harrow's Gate, possibly hiding or preparing for this fight. We need to find them before the darkness spreads further."
Max's mind raced. "We should start by talking to people in the occult community. They might have heard something, seen someone unusual."
Boris looked skeptical. "The occultists are a secretive lot. They won't just open up to anyone, especially about something this sensitive."
Ava's eyes lit up. "I know someone. Professor Langley. He's a historian and an expert in ancient texts and prophecies. If anyone knows about the chosen one, it's him."
Max agreed, though he felt a pang of unease. He didn't like relying on outsiders, but they had no choice. "Alright. Let's pay him a visit."
---
Professor Langley's office was in a cluttered old building on the edge of the city. The walls were lined with bookshelves crammed with dusty tomes and ancient artifacts. Langley himself was a tall, thin man with wild white hair and a pair of round spectacles perched on his nose. He looked up from his desk as they entered, his eyes narrowing in curiosity.
"Max, Ava, and Boris," Langley said, rising to greet them. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
Max got straight to the point. "We're looking for information about a prophecy—one that speaks of a chosen one who will fight against a great darkness."
Langley's expression turned serious. "Ah, the prophecy of the Guardian. It's one of the oldest and most enigmatic prophecies I've studied. What's brought this on?"
Ava stepped forward. "We believe the prophecy is coming true. A dark entity is trying to break through into our world, and we think the chosen one is somewhere in Harrow's Gate."
Langley's eyes widened. "If what you say is true, then we're in grave danger. The prophecy speaks of a time when the barriers between worlds will weaken, and a great evil will rise. The chosen one is supposed to have the power to stop it."
Max leaned forward, urgency in his voice. "Do you know anything about who this chosen one might be? Where we can find them?"
Langley sighed, running a hand through his hair. "The prophecy is vague, but it mentions a lineage of protectors—people who have been preparing for this battle for generations. The chosen one is said to bear a mark, a symbol of their destiny."
Ava's eyes widened. "A mark? Like a tattoo or a birthmark?"
Langley nodded. "Exactly. It's said to be a symbol of light, a counter to the dark symbols used by the cult."
Max's mind raced. "We need to find someone with that mark. Any idea where we might start looking?"
Langley thought for a moment. "There are old records, genealogies of families believed to be part of this lineage. They might be in the city archives, or with some of the older families in Harrow's Gate. It's a long shot, but it's a start."
Max felt a surge of determination. "Thank you, Professor. We'll start with the archives."
Langley nodded. "Be careful. The darkness will not sit idly by while you search for the chosen one."
---
The city archives were a labyrinth of ancient documents and records, a treasure trove of history hidden beneath layers of dust. Max, Ava, and Boris split up, each taking a section to search for any mention of the prophecy or the lineage of protectors.
Hours passed in silence, the only sounds the rustling of papers and the occasional cough. Max's eyes burned from reading, but he pressed on, driven by the urgency of their mission. Finally, Ava's voice broke the silence.
"Max, Boris, come look at this."
They gathered around her, peering at the old document she had spread out on the table. It was a family tree, dating back centuries, with detailed notes and annotations.
"This family," Ava said, pointing to a name. "The name means 'light bearer' in an ancient dialect. It's mentioned in the prophecy as the lineage of protectors."
Max studied the document. "Do we have a current address?"
Ava nodded. "There's an old estate on the outskirts of the city. It's been abandoned for years, but it might hold clues."
Boris frowned. "If it's been abandoned, it could be dangerous. Who knows what might be lurking there."
Max agreed, but they had no choice. "We have to check it out. It might be our only lead."
---
The estate was a sprawling, decaying mansion, its once grand facade now crumbling and overgrown with ivy. As they approached, the air grew colder, the sense of unease growing with each step. The front door creaked open with a push, revealing a dark, musty interior.
Max led the way, his flashlight cutting through the gloom. The mansion was filled with old furniture, covered in dust and cobwebs, a silent testament to the passage of time. They moved carefully, searching for any sign of the chosen one or the mark mentioned in the prophecy.
In one of the upstairs rooms, they found an old journal, its pages filled with meticulous notes and drawings. Ava flipped through it, her eyes widening with each page.
"This journal belonged to the last descendant of the Light Bearers," she said. "It details their efforts to protect the city, and their search for the chosen one. Look at this."
She pointed to a sketch of the mark—a small, intricate symbol resembling a sunburst. "This is the mark we're looking for. It's said to appear on the chosen one's skin when they come of age."
Max felt a glimmer of hope. "So we're looking for someone with this mark. It's a start."
Ava nodded, but her expression was troubled. "There's more. The journal mentions a ritual to awaken the chosen one's power. Without it, they won't be able to fight the darkness."
Max's heart sank. "So we need to find the chosen one, and then perform a ritual to awaken their power. And all before the darkness consumes the city."
Boris sighed. "No pressure, then."
They left the mansion with heavy hearts, the weight of their mission pressing down on them. As they walked back to the city, Max couldn't shake the feeling that they were being watched. The shadows seemed to whisper and shift around them, a constant reminder of the darkness that loomed ever closer.
They had a lead, but the road ahead was fraught with danger. The chosen one was out there, somewhere, and it was up to them to find and awaken them before it was too late. The fate of Harrow's Gate, and possibly the world, depended on it.
As they made their way back through the city streets, Max's determination hardened. They would find the chosen one, perform the ritual, and stop the darkness. Failure was not an option.
But as the night deepened and the shadows grew longer, he couldn't shake the feeling that their time was running out. The darkness was closing in, and their battle was far from over.