The Chosen One

Audrick held up his sword and chanted aloud, “Qui Habitat in adiutorio altissimi, in protection Dei Caeli commorabitur. (Whoever dwells with the assistance of the Most High will abide in the protection of the God of heaven).” A tithe to the God he had worshiped since birth.

He chanted for hours until the blade glowed a bright green signifying it was time.

Audrick stood, grabbed the hilt of his sword, and approached her. She was the chosen one. The one who would grant him God’s favor.

Before completing his tithe, he caressed her soft cheek. “Electus es. Cum tibi placuerit. (You are the chosen one. With you he will be pleased.)”

She struggled against her bonds to no avail. He plunged the sword into her heart saying, “Gratiam habet servo tuo, deus meus. (Have favor on your servant, God).

After the she expired, he removed the blade and left the chapel.

This story is prompted by Sue Vincent’s Daily Echo Thursday photo prompt: Blade #writephoto

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