Being the Chosen One is Highly Overrated

I'm looking for someone to tell me if I am the chosen one. So far, I've asked a knight, a wise man, and a wizard. I got nowhere with the first two, but the wizard pointed me to Mordrone, an old dragon who might know. Unfortunately, Mordrone was just as likely to eat me as tell me what I wanted to know; it mattered which side of the horde he woke up on.

No matter the risk, I had to find out. If I discover I am the chosen one, I need to save whoever I'm supposed to be saving. So I trekked to the dragon's cave and asked my question.

"Excuse me, Mordrone, are you awake?"

I listened for a reply but only heard loud, heavy breathing.

"I have a tough question and was told you might know the answer."

I listened again but still only heard breathing. I had walked all this way, and Mordrone wouldn't even wake. My temper rose, and frustration took over.

"Come on, lazy brute! Get up!" I grabbed a rock and threw it.

The breathing transitioned into a gigantic yawn. Several loud cracks assaulted me, like a hundred knuckles cracking simultaneously, followed by pounding steps. 

I moved from the cave entrance just before a vast yellow dragon exited. He stretched out his wings and pawed the ground, cutting deep grooves into the rocky floor. I immediately regretted throwing the rock.

"Who woke me?" 

I was petrified and unable to speak. I've seen my fair share of dragons, but none this big. Heck, not even half as big. The blast of air from his unfurling wings almost knocked me over. 

"Speak!" Mordrone commanded.

I raised my hand and softly responded, "Just me."

"Me is not a name. What is your name?"

"Radmar."

Mordrone sniffed around until he found me crouching behind a pile of large stones.

"Tell me why you thought it was necessary to wake me. And be careful how you answer. It's almost dinner time, and I still haven't decided what to eat."

I gulped. "I was told you might be able to tell me if I'm the chosen one."

"Chosen one? Chosen for what?"

"You know. The chosen one. The person who defeats the bad guy and restores peace and sometimes becomes king."

"Oh, that chosen one. Do you know the bad guy you're supposed to fight?"

"I don't know. First, I need to find out if I am the chosen one, and then I'll worry about that."

"It would speed up the process if you knew the bad guy, but we can still find out. Do you have any scars or strange markings?"

"I have scars in several places. I'm very clumsy." I showed him. Lucky for me, none were near my private parts."

The dragon examined each scar methodically. "These don't appear to be significant. Are these all of them? You don't have one on your butt cheek?"

I shook my head.

"Alright, so much for scars." The dragon sat thinking hard. "There are other signs. Unfortunately, they are more difficult to decipher." He rubbed his chin. "Is there a prophecy about you?"

"I don't think so. I've never heard of one."

The dragon sighed, "Of course not. I'm getting old and forgetful. Prophecies are for others, not for the chosen one. How silly of me." He paced, thinking of another approach. "No scars, no known prophecies." He continued pacing. "I've got it!" He dipped into the cave and returned with a sword. "Take this."

I took it and immediately dropped it. I tried picking it up but to no avail. "What is this made of? It weighs a ton."

"Only paladins can wield it, although a few chosen ones have."

"Does this mean I'm not the chosen one?"

"No. It was a shortcut. If you held it, then we'd know. However, being unable to hold it doesn't mean you're not the chosen one. Many bonafide chosen ones were unable to wield the Paladin Sword."

"You know a lot about chosen ones."

"I ought to. I've eaten many of them…" the dragon coughed. "Excuse me, I meant to say I've eaten with many of them."

"So, if I'm the chosen one, we'll eat dinner together?"

"If you're the chosen one, I promise I'll have you for dinner." The dragon quickly cleared his throat, "...over for dinner. I'll have you over for dinner." He laughed nervously.

I hadn't eaten today. The thought of food excited me. I pressed him to think of another test.

"Okay, be patient. Let me see. We've done scars and prophecies and the Paladin Sword. What's next?" He paused in deep thought. "Oh, I know. A few can connect with dragons mentally. They can share thoughts without saying a word. Sometimes the dragon and chosen one are allies and other times enemies, but the mental connection is the same in both cases."

I hung my head, "I can't hear what you're thinking." I couldn't believe I'd come all this way to find out I was normal. What a waste. I don't want to be normal.

"Hold on. I haven't opened my mind yet." Mordrone closed his eyes and concentrated.

I felt like I should close my eyes, too. We sat with our eyes closed in deep concentration. I heard a faint voice call out. The voice sounded like it was coming from the other side of a large lake. I focused harder. The voice grew louder and louder until it sounded like it was in the same room as me. I listened and was shocked and sickened at what I heard.

"You want to eat me!" I shouted, breaking the mental connection.

"You are the chosen one!" Mordrone shouted.

We eyed each other in disbelief.

Mordrone broke the silence, "I'm honestly surprised. I thought you were just a naive idiot. I would never have guessed you're the chosen one sent to destroy me." Smoke began to pour from his nostrils. "I'm sorry I have to do this."

Mordrone took a deep breath and spewed a stream of fire towards me. It's my dumb luck to find out I'm the chosen one and then get burned to death. The fire engulfed me. I stood in shock while flames encircled me. It took a moment to realize I wasn't in pain. Mordrone stopped.

"Ahh, yes. There was one more test I forgot about. Some chosen ones can absorb magic. Now I wonder if you're also able to deflect it?"

At that very second, the fire surrounding me shot back at Mordrone, hitting him in the face. He fell back into the cave wall, bringing down tons of boulders crashing on top of him, killing him instantly.

I was in shock. I stumbled to the nearest village and told them what had happened. They all cheered and praised my name. Mordrone used to eat some of the villagers now and then, which really upset them. They made me an honorary citizen and declared this day "Radmar the Chosen One Day." It's a bit wordy, but who am I to complain?

I sought to discover who I am and found out. Although I thought it would involve more than just standing, at least I'll never have to say, "I'm looking for someone to tell me if I am the chosen one."