The Ranger (Book 1) by E.A. Whitehead

attacked,” Silva explained. “You were long gone when the knights from the abbey arrived to come to our aid. All they found was the torn tunic with some of your blood on it. When the Rangers arrived, they told them that they had not seen you, and that you were believed dead. They then sent word to the abbey, telling them that you had perished in the attack. Everyone who knew that you had the Token of Fire now believes that you are dead.”
    “What are you saying?” Vincent asked, becoming upset. “I can’t see any of my friends again?”
    “It is regrettable, but necessary.” Silva continued. “Now we will be able to train your token without fear of interruption. You have been chosen Vincent, you have been marked. Sandora selected you, and it will be you who resurrects the Pallàdrim and restores the Kingdom of Pallà to its former glory.”
    “Then you are trying to resurrect the Pallàdrim,” Vincent said, stunned. “Not that I have any love for the Empire, I mean, the Pallà Province has been neglected for centuries. If it weren’t for the Rangers, there would be nothing left here. But still, to wage war against the Eresians would be suicide.”
    “A week ago, I would have agreed with you,” Silva smiled.
    “What has changed since then?”
    “You,” Silva replied. “You have been marked by the Goddess; you are her champion, the Chosen One. You are destined to lead the armies of Pallà against the Empire.”
    Vincent shook his head. “No,” his mind was reeling and he felt like the wind had been knocked from him. “No, I’m no leader. There’s been a mistake. You’ve got the wrong person. There’s no way I could do something like that.”
    “There’s no mistake, Vincent,” a familiar voice came from the door. Vincent turned to see Master Auna standing in the open entry. “You have been chosen.” Auna moved next to the table as he talked, pacing. “It wasn’t chance that your home was attacked when you were a child, or that you were found and brought to the abbey. The Magi knew of your birth and came to destroy you before you became a threat to them. The Rangers made sure you survived that attack.”
    “But Master Auna, why didn’t you tell me before?” Vincent asked, feeling betrayed. “Why did you keep it a secret?”
    “We kept it a secret because, until last night, we didn’t know for certain. It wasn’t until Mayberry, the Chief Captain of Sandora’s Army, appeared and marked you that we knew,” Auna answered.
    “I need to think about this,” Vincent said, standing up abruptly. It was all just too much for him to believe.
    “Take as much time as you need,” Silva said with a smile, “But please try to be quick. There is still much more we need to tell you.”
    Vincent nodded and started to leave.
    “Oh, one more thing,” Silva added, “I would advise against leaving the walls, it’s getting dark.”
    Vincent left the cabin. The sun was low in the sky, casting long shadows. He walked slowly around the walled encampment, thinking about what he had been told; oblivious to everything else. Despite his misgivings, it all made strange sense to him, as though he had known it all along.
    A cool breeze hit Vincent’s face, the first breeze he had felt since he had entered the camp. He looked around and realized that he had arrived at the gate through which he had entered the encampment earlier that day. He paused a moment, considering the possibility of just running away. After a moment’s reflection, he decided against the idea. Whether or not he accepted Silva’s story, he still intended on continuing as a Ranger.
    Vincent started to walk again, away from the gate. He had not taken three steps when a faint scream ripped through the air. Vincent turned; it had come from outside the wall.
    He looked around, hoping to see another Ranger close by that he could send to investigate, not wanting to disobey Silva’s warning. There was not another soul anywhere in sight. Vincent