I didn't know what to say as soon as I got in the Throne Room.

It was completely empty except for the people at the very end of it: the King, the Queen, and their daughter.

I still couldn't fully take in the beautiful structure of the Throne Room, but that wasn't important at the time being. What was important was the grim look of the King and his wife, and the rather teary Emma.

They hardly seemed to notice my presence, and even as I got closer to the golden thrones they perched on,  I went unnoticed by the group of them.

It was only until I had actually reached the thrones that they had, at last, looked up. The red banners that draped the walls whooshed with the soft wind that flowed through the Throne Room, and they seemed to be the only live thing in this room besides me.

"Dylan," the King addressed me with a lifeless wave of his hand. "Welcome."

Not a word came out of my mouth. The deadly silence in the room was almost too calm, painfully calm. I had to hold in the urge to ask what was wrong with them, because these were the royals and asking such rather invasive questions would be improper of me.

Even Emma, who was usually boisterous as can be, wore a look of both sadness and confusion on her, mixed in with the fact that her face was dirtied with large tears.

"We didn't want to come to the conclusion," King Richard had finally spoken up, though his voice was no less monotonous than before, "that this has to be done. But it must."

That was all he had spoken. Those were the only words that had come out of his mouth for what seemed like an eternity. I could scarcely bare to look at such a despairing bunch.

Queen Charlotte had finally said something, "You, Dylan Castro, the Chosen One, are to be sent on a quest."

And again, like the King, this was all she said. But it sucked even more because just then, with her sudden words, a billion questions popped into my head: What quest? What do you mean by sent? Where am I being sent? And those were just a few notable inquiries about the things she'd just said.

The King had been the speaker now, "You only have fourteen days to prepare."

"Prepare?" I couldn't contain my curiosity and concern. "Prepare for what?"

"I was just getting to that," the King fixed his posture so that it was more upright, as though to indicate that the conversation was just about to get more serious and gloomy. "The Foreteller, whom as you might or might not know is the kingdom's personal prophesier, has recently divulged the truth of the prophesy. The complete truth."

"Whom?" I said. "You mean the Foreteller is a person and not a thing?"

"Not a person," said the King. "But a creature. Well, I wouldn't say that. They rather despise being called a creature or monster or anything related to that, but that isn't the point of this meeting. We need to discuss what it is exactly that the Foreteller disclosed. It is rather... grievous."

"That's one way of putting it, Father," Emma had finally raised her voice, the tears drying on her face as though they were seeping into her pale skin. "Atrocious and impossible are another."

"It's not impossible," said the King, caressing his graying mustache. "It may be challenging, yes, but to say that the mission is unfeasible is rather untruthful."

"What's rather untruthful is the fact that you're giving him a hopeless task," said Emma harshly. "The only thing he'll be getting out of it is death, and I can't allow that."

"It is not your place to allow or disallow anything, Emma Rose," the King stopped caressing his mustache and gave his daughter a forbidding look. Now I knew it was bad because he'd addressed Emma by adding her middle name. No parent did that unless they were truly irate, "it is mine. If I say he does the quest, he does it. If I say he doesn't, then he doesn't."

"That's not fair!" She actually stood up from her throne, an infuriated look on her face. "Doesn't he get to defend himself? If he doesn't want to sacrifice his life for some stupid and pointless venture, he doesn't have to! It's his—"

"Sit down or you will be taken out of the room," the King said in a harmfully peaceful voice, his expression gray and red at the same time, as though he were both sad and mad. "Dylan, do you accept?"

"I don't even know what the quest is," was my response. "How am I to determine whether or not I want to do the quest when I don't know what the quest is?"

"That is correct," said the King. "But that's also what the point of deeming the name 'The Chosen One' is. It's knowing how to look in the face of adversity fearlessly, but more importantly, it's not knowing what your path is, but creating it. What I mean by this is you don't need to have complete knowledge of the quest until after you have wholeheartedly agreed to do it. That is when your path won't come to you, but when you are set to make it as your own. I believe in you. The whole kingdom does."

"I..." I said hesitantly. "I don't know. I just... I need time, Your Majesty."

"That's understandable," the King nodded his head slowly. "If you don't want to do it, you don't have to."

"But..." The weight of my voice slowly came back to me. "I didn't say that. I said I didn't know and that I needed time... That wasn't a 'no', sir."

"There's no difference between no and I don't know to me," he faced me very seriously, right in the eyes. "Only no or yes. But that's with this is. A yes or no question. So, yes or no?"

"You can't just ask such a forcible question!" Emma shouted, but her father raised his hand as a gesture of disregard.

The whole room seemed to fade before me. How could he ask such a question? I needed time. But, above all, I needed clarity. Clarity that I was even... well, this. The Chosen One. That I was here, in a kingdom, with magical powers. I mean, it'd only been a week and a half since my arrival and I was already being asked to go on a quest. And to where, to do what? Nothing made sense anymore.

I had to understand that whatever my answer was, whatever I told the King as a response to his rather intrusive question, that it would change my life. Forever. Forever forever. Well, it was my assumption as he chose not to reveal anything involving the quest with me—and it wasn't a far-fetched one, either. Why could it be that he would only tell me the details of the mission if I accepted the mission itself? The mission had to be dangerous—Emma had even called it 'atrocious and impossible' which could only confirm my theory that whatever the King was sending me off to do, it was not a very pretty doing.

Out came a sigh from me and, regretfully, I said, "Okay. Yes. I... I accept the quest."

The second I uttered those words, my heart tumbled twenty times. I wanted to punch myself for my answer, but realized how awkward that would be in front of the royal family of Hark.

"Wondrous," said the King. "Peter shall train to you everything that hasn't already been taught to you. The Knight, Jake, will work with you and teach you how to work a sword. Emma can give you information on nature and magic from her books. In just two weeks, you should be ready for your quest and everything in between."

"Okay, but," I couldn't hold it in at this point, "what is the quest exactly?"

"You will travel to the Crooked Realm," the King said plainly, but his wife and daughter flinched at the words as though they were crooked, "and you will face the Creature King, Downfall, and you will defeat him with your trained powers. You will demolish every last one of those wicked beasts contained in the horrific lands. And when you're finished, you will bring the bony coronet of the King, the Crooked Crown, to me."

Every word truly sank into my skin, into my bones, and into my soul. Down to the final letter. I tried not to think about what might happen in the Crooked Realm. But I realized that, no matter what, it was my destiny, my fate, my kismet to do this. I was the only one that could do this. I had to be brave.

"Okay," I said, but that was it. It seemed to be the only rightful word to describe the way I felt about it, or the false way that I felt about it. The sheltered feelings, though, were to stay that way.

"You are dismissed," the King gave another wave of his hand, gesturing that I could leave.

I yawned and rubbed my hands—and stretched a lot—when I got out of the Throne Room. A sudden exhaustion went over me and I felt all weary.

I needed sleep. I needed to think about this whole thing, as well. This quest. The Crooked Realm. My future.

I would've probably fainted right then and there but a Fairy Carry had come to me with two raggedy letters addressed to me.

One was from Grandma. Before I gave a care to the other, I ripped open Grandma's disorderly envelope and blazed through it.

Dear Dylan,

That's good for you! I'm happy that you're enjoying your opulent castle life and that you have an Element! I always knew there was something special about you. Nobody needs to take care of me, by the way, I can do that by myself. I just want you to make sure you're safe and sound at the Hark Kingdom.
Sincerely,
Your very proud grandmother

Her words filled all the dejection, bafflement, and fury within me. I felt... buoyant, a feeling that I hadn't felt in the past two days.

I shifted my hands to the next letter, Targan's. I was surprised that he had taken the time and care to write back to me, but even more shocked by what had even written in the letter:

Dear Dylan,

I miss you, too! And wow, you're lucky! The things I'd do just to be in a castle, having magical powers. That's the dream.
I stopped going to the Earl, by the way. As soon as you were gone, I felt too downcast to even think about going to parties. But when I got your letter earlier today, I was eager to write one straight back.
I'm sorry if I haven't been feeling the most amount of affection toward somebody that I truly care about.
I hope you're happier today.
Your best mate,
Targan

He said he'd missed me. He apologized for not "showing affection" to me. He was downcast about my disappearance. I didn't think Targan had such knowledge of words and, furthermore, I didn't even think he knew how to write a word, let alone a paragraph!

The drab, appalling conversation in the Throne Room had nearly left my mind as I continued to read these letters as though they were the only important things in the world, and they were.

But what I came to realize, that I hadn't realized before, is that what was more important was preparing for my quest. Because I was doing it. No regret. No taking it back. I had to do it, if I was to be the Chosen One.

And, as I slowly made my way from the entrance of the Throne Room to the Great Hall to my room, I realized something else:

That I would do anything it took to wreck the Crooked Realm till all that was left was its own nothingness...