The Mystic World

(19)

A heavy silence befalls the chamber.

Declan abruptly lets go of the sword and backs away a couple feet from it as if afraid it might now hurt him. However he still could not stop staring at it with wide eyes for saucers just like the elders.

Why didn't it harm him anyway? Shouldn't he be disintegrated like the elders said anyone would coming in contact with the weapon?

When he finally musters the will to pull his eyes away from the sword he looks down at his right hand and wiggles his fingers as if trying to shake away the feeling of the golden hilt on it.

"Did anyone else recognise the voice, or was it just me?", Elder Elias whispered, his voice shaking in the end.

"I did", Elder Rufus admitted.

"It is the same voice from our recurring dreams", Elder Sabrina declared.

Declan glanced at them from the corner of his eyes. Voice? Dreams? Just then it hit him like a ton of bricks and his breath got caught in his lungs. He realised fully well why the voice felt familiar to him too.

The exact same voice visited him in his strange dream and spoke in his head too.

Declan visibly gulped at the realisation, sweat forming in his forehead. It was all true and real. He wasn't imagining it and neither had he lost his mind. What spooky shit was this?

"Let us get out of here and then talk", Elder Micah suggested, his eyes not leaving his son who seemed paler than usual.

The elders wordlessly agree. None of them had the energy to continue standing in the chamber anymore because the sword was making it's presence known to them too now.

It was awakened alright.

So once again the elders stood side by side facing the wall, placing their right hand on it and muttering the same spell.

The wall disappears again and the light of the corridor outside spills in through the gap. Rufus, Elias and Sabrina leave first while Micah waits for Declan to get through before he follows last.

Just as the wall reappeared magically and closed the path making it all go back to normal, Declan leans his back on the opposite side of the wall seeking some rest. His mind trying hard to keep up with the racing thoughts emerging quickly.

"Am I really—the prophesied one?", Declan choked out, looking up at them all.

The elders couldn't help but look differently at him now. When they were entering the chamber they knew Declan was different, but coming out they knew he was a legend.

Declan was literally the legendary chosen one who is not only the result of a prophecy but also the only possible means to give rise to the mighty phoenix, the creator of them all.

He is the one person the elders have desperately been waiting for since the moment they understood the prophecy the ancestors warned them about. For years they have been worried and losing hope thinking the day will never arrive when they find that worthy person who will change the destiny of the Mystic World.

Before anyone could say anything Declan started feeling a little uncomfortable. A burning sensation began rising up both his arms making them twitch achingly. He winced at the sudden pain in his body.

"Dec?", Elder Micah calls his name in concern.

Declan straightens up pushing away from the wall, gasping in pain. The elders look at him in shock and alarm not able to understand what was going on with him.

"AH!", Declan almost yelled in pain, his arms wrapped around his body.

"Declan? What's happening?!", Elder Micah demanded in frantically, panic plastered all over his face.