A sob escaped from Pradip's lips and everyone lowered their heads in shame. They all stood and walked towards the fire. Stooping at the edge, each person collected a handful of ash and sprinkled it over their bowed heads. Bowing and raising their hands, Edwin couldn’t understand a word, but he could recognize a lamentation when he saw one. Begging forgiveness for their involuntary lack of faith and understanding. Some openly wailed in apparent despair at their predicament.

  The way he spoke, it was as if… “Wait, when you fled. You were there?”

  Pradip nodded, “We witnessed our home being destroyed. And all this time, we have waited and waited for our God to send us his emissary.”

  As he looked at the withered man’s hand, Edwin found himself stunned at the implication, “You’ve been waiting for seven hundred years?”

  It took several minutes, but Pradip shakily took a few breaths. His voice was unsteady, but it gained strength, “But we weren’t abandoned. Our God told us, even as we watched our homeland burn, ‘Stand like men. You will suffer for many years. But, all will be made right. You will not be embraced by death, until the time comes when the Usurper, the Contradiction, the Bearer of My Authority comes. You will see Khuchtei restored, and Khuchtei will be reborn within you. He will wield the truth as a weapon, but it will seem far from him. The world will be confused. Emptiness will be filled.’”

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  Edwin felt a desperation inside. He was surprised, but didn’t fight it. The final line. He didn’t know why, but it gave him a flickering hope. A hope he didn’t understand, but knew he would pursue endlessly. Even the previously weeping people around the fire seemed to completely shake off the sadness they felt mere moments ago. Pradip reached down and drew his knife from the sheath. It was eighteen inches long, curved into a triangular shape and it’s steel body perfectly reflected the dancing flames. Pradip offered his hand, “Hero, for which our God has finally rewarded our patience, will you help us reclaim our homeland and purge the taint of the demonic scourge.”

  Edwin felt a weight on his shoulders. It was here, right in front of him. He had finally found his purpose. But it was more than he could’ve imagined. The hope of these people, as low as it had been laid was being placed in him. It seemed more than he could or even should partake, but…

  ‘This is the time.’

  Edwin sighed deeply. Even without the Voice urging him, he knew. He knew this would be a responsibility he would see through.

  Nodding and steeling his gaze and held out his hand, “I accept.”

  Pradip cut his own hand and then drew the knife across Edwin’s palm. The blade barely scratched him but a healthy amount of blood spurted. The two men firmly clasped their fists together, “By the sign of your blood, you have taken up the mantle as the Hero, the Usurper and the Bearer of the Authority of the Omnidei. May victory over evil prevail!”