Fantasy Adventure

The sun has barely risen over the horizon; light from your window paints the room orange and gold -- the colors of dawn, a new beginning. Today is the day.

You slip out of bed and into your clothes, a black cloak over some brown leather common clothes. You lace up your boots and head downstairs into the kitchen, where your mother has set out breakfast for the family. Nothing special, just a few eggs scrambled with goat cheese, and your father and sister are already at the table, devouring them voraciously.

Your father is burly, with a rough beard and hair to match. He is still in his underclothes, his broad hairy chest poking through the thinness of his shirt. Your sister sits beside him, blonde hair pulled back, already dressed in a simple dress for the day. She eats small, delicate bites and glances over at you, pouting. She was still upset that she hadn't been chosen for the quest -- despite her proficiency with a sword and her (small) knowledge of magical incantations -- and had spent all last night pleading with you, begging, saying that she would do anything to take your place as the leader of the quest.

But no, it was you who had been tasked with slaying the dragon. You would not let her assume the danger of the journey -- or your mother or father for that matter. The one who leads the quest must be ready to sacrifice themselves for the group, and you know you would never let her do that. Your mother approaches the table with a plate of her own, also in her small clothes, her large bust pressing through the front of her shirt far enough that you look down at your plate, shyly embarrassed. You take a few bites of your eggs while no one says anything around the table.

Those in the village are honor-bound to help you, should you ask them for aid on your quest. Anyone could be uprooted into a new life, into a dangerous journey, into your service, so long as you asked their aid. So long as they are morally righteous and willing to help; some might need more convincing than others. You have been thinking for a long time about the journey, about who you might ask, about the people in your life that could lend you the greatest aid.

Your mother has the skills of a master chef and was once a well-renowned warrior for the village, in the War of Spades almost twenty years ago. But she has a home to take care of; it might be hard to ask that of her.

Your father was similarly a commander in battle (which was where he met and courted your mother). He has sway with some commanders in neighboring villages and might be useful in recruiting others. But it is through his farmwork that the family sustains itself and the household. If you took him, your mother or sister would have to find work, which might involve doing something undesirable...

Your sister, Nel, is not bad with a sword and has a graduated student's knowledge of magic -- she had started at the college a few weeks ago and was consistently impressing her professors. She could create small gusts of wind and magical shields the length of her arm-span, and, as she continues her studies from the tome she always carries, could perhaps grow even more powerful. But she might not be willing to follow your command.

In fact, you have heard that some of these journeys often require great sacrifice and discomfort -- monetarily, dangerously, (sometimes even) sexually -- and are unsure that any members of your family would be willing to assist you in these ways, or if you would be comfortable asking this of them.

You finish your eggs. The sun has risen higher, a beam of light arcing straight into the kitchen lands on you. The chosen one.