Chooser of The Chosen One

A frail old man held up an oversized card with a picture of someone on it and a name scribbled below.

"Not him," The Chooser said, giving it a cursory glance.

The old man tossed the card amongst the sea of cards that covered the floor and reached up to grab another card from the stack next to him. The Chooser paced back and forth, parting the sea of unchosen cards with his feet. The old man shook, reaching for the next card.

"Are you sure this is the best way to select the next Chosen One?" the old man asked, his voice shaky and hoarse. 

"If you have a better idea, I am all ears," The Chooser said.

The old man held up the next card. It was a picture of a simple woman with hair as dark as her skin and green eyes. The Chooser stopped pacing and went in closer to get a better look.

"Is she the Chosen One?" the old man said, hoping this tedious task would be over.

"No, but WOW she is beautiful. Tasha."

The old man tilted the card toward him. "I guess so."

"Guess so? You must be blind in your old age."

"We have passed so many people they all look the same to me."

"That's why you don't have the gift."

"We passed plenty of suitable candidates. I'm starting to think you don't know who is supposed to be The Chosen One."

The old man was right. The Chooser had no idea who to pick. His mom and dad always told him he would just know. An instinct. The problem was no one seemed worthy. After seeing millions of faces from all over the world, he was still no closer to choosing. The only person who stood out this whole time was Tasha, which gave him an idea.

"I need to speak with Tasha."

"The woman on the card? Why?"

"She is the Chosen One."

"You just said a minute ago she–"

"Nevermind what I said. Take me to her."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"The Chooser can never speak to the Chosen One."

"Fine she isn't the Chosen One. Happy?"

"No. I'm confused."

The Chooser smacked his palm over his own face. "Can you just take me to her? Please."

The old man flicked the back of the card, creating a blue and gold portal of fire to open up.

"Make it quick. I don't want to be at it all day with these cards."

The Chooser stepped through the portal and was whisked away to a cottage in the middle of a field. The portal appeared on the ceiling and dropped The Chooser in the kitchen. He smacked his head on the corner of the wooden table while falling to the floor. Tasha threw her kettle of soup in the air, startled by the commotion behind her.

"Who are you? What are you doing here?" she asked, holding her ladle like a baseball bat. 

The Chooser rubbed his head and looked up at her. "Hello. I'm The...Chase."

"The Chase?"

"I mean Chase. Sorry, my head is kind of spinning right now," he said, holding his head.

"What are you doing in my house?"

Chase pointed to the ceiling. The portal still swirling blue and gold. Tasha jaw dropped and looked back at Chase. 

"You're a wizard," she said.

"No. I'm...well..."

She put down her ladle and knelt beside him. "Are you hurt? I can't have you die in my own home. Our home."

"I'm not a wizard–"

"My aunt told me a wizard would visit me. She never said he would be so handsome. Oh this is so exciting!" she said touching his face.

"Again not a wizard," he said, sitting up.

"Then explain the portal you created above us?"

"I used it to come here. To talk to you."

"Yes I'll marry you!" she screeched, giving him a hug so tight it would have turned a bunny into paste.

Chase sat there confused why she was coming on to him so strong. Sure she was a beautiful woman, but this was...unexpected.

"Come again?"

"You are the man from my aunt's vision. A wizard. That will take me as his bride and we will shire the Chosen One who will save all humanity. Or at least that's how my aunt tells it."

Chase pondered this new information. It would explain why he was unable to choose anyone. And why she stood out to him in the endless sea of cards. But his parents never mentioned anything about finding a wife. Let alone being the creator of the Chosen One.

"So we are supposed to get married? And the Chosen One is supposed to be our son?"

"Daughter. But yes," she said, grinning ear to ear.

"This is a lot for me to process."

"That a beautiful woman wants to have a baby with you? You don't give yourself enough credit."

"So what? I'm supposed to just marry someone I don't know because her aunt made a prophecy."

"...yes…" she said, realizing she may have come on too strong with him.

He tapped his finger underneath his chin, looking into her glowing emerald eyes. She was a one of a kind, but the idea of marrying someone so fast made him nervous. There was only one way to ease his nerves.

"I'll tell you what. Do you have a coin?" Chase asked.

"I sure do," she said, reaching into her pocket, all too ready with a gold coin. One side of the coin had their leader, Mortamus stamped in it and on the other was a picture of a horse.

"Heads, I marry you. Tails, I don't," Chase said.

"Go ahead already," she said giddy.

He flipped the coin. It was about to touch the brick floor when she hugged him again. "See, it was destiny!"

She never looked at the coin and didn't need to. It was heads. Chase picked her up and really looked at her for the first time. She was over the moon for him, bobbing her head as he held her still. Her smile beaming so bright it could blind people. He felt a flutter in his chest like he never had before. 

"I guess that settles it. I choose you."