#great story more specifically
Summary: Being the Chosen One fucking sucks. That’s why Erika is furious when she finds out her brother got picked.
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I find out my parents let the wizards take Ben an hour after I get home for spring break.
“You have to understand, Erika,” my mother says tearfully, “there was a prophecy! What were we supposed to do?”
“You were supposed to stop a group of ancient wizards from dragging off my fourteen-year-old brother to die,” I snarl at her. I dump out my small suitcase on the bed and leave it face open on the floor. I throw open my closet and start tearing all of the hanging things out of my way. “Or, I don’t know, maybe call me?”
“Don’t talk to your mother like that,” my father says. He’d be a lot more convincing if he stopped hovering around the doorway and avoiding my glare. He tucks his terrycloth bathrobe around himself. “You know what they’re like. We couldn’t say no.”
“That excuse is a little tired, Dad.” I flip the latch of the secret compartment at the back of my closet. It swings open to reveal my collection of swords. My mother gasps, but I’m too mad to point out that she knew I kept the weapons, just not where. “I let you use it when it happened to me because I expected you to never fail your children quite so spectacularly again.”
“We’re just normal people, Erika,” Mom wails. She’s dressed in overalls and has smears of dirt from ankle to knee. “We couldn’t stop them! We’re just as upset as you!”
“Are you?” I whirl around, three swords under one arm and a crossbow in my free hand. “Is that why Dad smells like a lavender bath bomb and you’ve been gardening all morning? Because you’re upset?”
“Yes,” Mom says.
“No,” Dad says.
They exchange quick, guilty looks.
“No,” Mom says.
“Yes,” Dad says.
