Connor Evans and The Binding Scrolls

Normal Day, Normal Week

I didn't nod, or change my expression. I was just... confused. What on earth are these, Scrolls? Chosen One? World-ending magic? Ancient and nameless evils?

"I have maybe half of them haphazardly shoved inside of my bag."

I turned my focus back to her old bag, laden with holes, broken seams and tears. No, there's no way that those scribbles are magic, no way that I'm chosen for anything and all of this is absolutely not true. Being 'the Chosen One' sounds kinda fun, a real life adventure, but it's just impossible.

"You don't believe me, huh." Steph sighed, almost reading my mind. She relaxed, reaching into her bag and shuffling around the thin wraps of paper, pulling out a slender white ballpoint pen, accented with metallic gold. She stared at it, her face visibly turning to that of concern or fear, before she outstretched her arm and gestured her head for me to take it.

I carefully plucked the pen from her hand, she quickly swung her hand back and covered herself with her elbows.

I jumped at the response, defensively throwing my hands back, "woah, I'm just taking the pen. Stay calm." We both relaxed, I rolled the pen in my hands, it felt nice to hold and almost didn't want to give it back.

"Why didn't it work?" she asked curiously, tilting her head and pursing her lips.

I flipped over the pen, almost mesmerized by it, "Why didn't what work? Did you want me to do something with this?" I said vaguely, still inspecting the common contraption within my grasp. I noticed writing etched into the side, Fortis.

She sighed, mumbling something to herself and shaking her head.

"You can keep it," Steph sighed, seemingly disappointed from whatever had happened (or hadn't happened, in this case).

I huffed in response, flipping it so the button was accessible to my thumb. With a swift click, I opened the pen and to my surprise, I was not met with the usual pen nib I thought I would find.

Instead, I was almost blinded by a flash of white-gold light.

At first, my eyes burned and it felt as if I had been struck by lightning. An electric shock radiating from the pen up through my limbs and coursing throughout my body like some sort of really, super painful electrical circuit designed specifically for me. Then, it felt warm and inviting. The once blinding light turned to a soft amber glow and it coaxed open my stinging eyes, I fluttered them open, unable to see through the spots glowing in my vision. My hand felt full. I shook my head, clearing my eyes and allowing myself to see.

There in my hand was a long, radiant sword. The blade glimmered like chromatic silver, etched with ornate carvings of thunderous lightning that seemed to flicker blue light as I turned the sword in my hand. The hilt was shimmering gold, curving up and around like wild-fire clambering to reach the tips of the blade, and the grip was wrapped with leather so carefully prepared it might as well as have been holding onto me. The whole sword seemed to emanate a holy presence, wherever this sacred blade went it brought sanctity and I could sense the corruption this weapon had purged, could smell and taste the evil in the air, before it was quickly whisked away and filled with the regular morning breeze.

But the strangest thing is that it felt comfortable in my hands. I twirled the blade in my wrist, and it felt light. I was drawn to it, I swear up and down that I never, ever, not even once in my life have seen this sword or any notion of it. No words were uttered but it spoke my name and I had to have it. Because this sword, was mine.

"Oh my god."

The breathless voice of Steph ripped me back into reality, my eyes whirling to meet hers. She seemed visibly shaken, yet elated to see the blade, or the blade in my hand, I didn't really know. 

She quickly bowed her head, "Connor, you have no idea who I am but I can wholeheartedly assure you that you have officially made me the happiest person on earth, thank you so, so much."

I relaxed my arm, dropping the sword to my side and taking a step towards Steph.

She pulled herself back up, smiling at me with her hands pulled neatly in front of her, "I am a descendant of an ancient family that has been charged with researching and maintaining the Scrolls for years. We are called Scroll-Keepers and have served many as scholars and sages, I believe I may be the last of my kind and I am absolutely honoured to finally serve you."

She smiled widely, "if you have any question, absolutely any at all, I will answer it swiftly and if I do not have the answer, I probably know where to find it."

Stephanie looked at me expectantly, but I had no idea what to say.

Suddenly, my entire reality had been shattered in the space of a Saturday morning and I was currently wielding a magical weapon, preparing to go on an adventure with a sage to probably fight the evils she was talking about and maybe, possibly save the world?

"Okay, first question..." I breathed, bringing the sword back up to me, I glazed my eyes over the sparkling designs that seemed to crack with thunder I could only hear in the back of my head. An etching, done into the side of the leather grip, had caught my attention. Fortis, the name of the blade. Pulling my eyes away from the ornate designs and divine magic, almost gluing my vision to the otherworldly craftsmanship, I looked towards Stephanie.

"How do I turn it off?"