The Chosen One

Little Benjamin Baker had a miserable life in the orphanage, but then he was visited by a wizard.

Little Benjamin Baker was the least popular child at the orphanage. The other kids thought him odd and would make fun of him and tease him. The head of the orphanage, Mr. Graves, liked Benjamin least of all, blaming him for everything that went wrong as if he had a vendetta against Benjamin.

Benjamin always thought about how much better his life would be if his parents hadn’t died in a mysterious fire when he was little, but he realized those were pointless thoughts as he had to live in the world that was. So, despite being friendless and shunned, he tried to keep a positive attitude, as deep inside him, he felt there was some purpose for him in this world.

That evening, Mr. Graves made Benjamin work in the kitchen again, helping to make a rather bland tomato soup. The meanest kid in the orphanage, Jerold, was also there cleaning dishes. While Benjamin was busy stirring the soup, Jerold came up behind him and said, “Careful there, Barmy Benji,” and kicked the stool Benjamin was standing on. As he lost his balance, Benjamin grabbed the large pot of tomato soup and ended up taking it tumbling down with him, the contents spilling over everything in the kitchen — the floors, the wall, the sink, the oven, and Benjamin himself.

“Benjamin, what did you do?!” roared Mr. Graves, who had just entered the kitchen.

“It was Jerold,” pleaded Benjamin.

“Always causing trouble and blaming others,” said Mr. Graves, who never missed a reason to punish Benjamin and yet never found fault in Jerold, no matter how miserable Jerold made things for the other kids. “You’re going to clean this up, and I don’t care if it takes you all night!”

Benjamin got a dirty bucket and sponge and got to work. Soon, it grew dark outside, but it looked like he had barely made a dent in the mess. Benjamin glanced at the clock; it was well past midnight, but the tomato soup looked like it would never be cleaned up. Benjamin was about to sink into despair when suddenly he heard a rumbling sound. He looked to the door that led out to the dumpster, and a bright light was seeping in between the door and the frame as the door began to shake as if buffeted by hard winds. Then the door burst open.

Benjamin was almost blinded by what he saw. A bright orb floated into the room, and Benjamin froze, clutching the sponge in his hand. But then the orb changed shape, turning into the form of a human figure. Then the light died down, and Benjamin found himself staring at an odd, elderly man with a long white beard and wearing a blue cloak with a blue pointy hat.

“Ah, I have found you,” said the old man with a kindly smile that disarmed Benjamin despite the initial shock.

“Who are you?” Benjamin gasped.

“I am Fizboulan, a powerful sorcerer, Benjamin Baker.”

Benjamin took a moment to process this. “A sorcerer? As in magic?”

“Yes, child, there is much more to your world than you realize,” Fizzboulan said. “Magic is everywhere in this world, though that is unknown but to a select few.”

“So, what are you doing here with your magic?”

Fizboulan smiled again. “I am looking for you, boy. There is much about yourself you do not know.”

“Looking for me? Why?”

“It’s a lot to explain,” said Fizboulan, “but you are a very special boy.”

Benjamin always knew there was something different about him — like something in his life was missing — and it wasn’t just his family. In his heart, he knew he was meant for something more. It felt like a dream to hear it out loud. “Am I capable of magic?”

“More than that,” answered Fizboulan. “We need to train you right away, though. There is much for you to learn. I must take you away to a world you will be quite unfamiliar with.”

It would be hard to imagine a place worse than the orphanage. “What sort of place?”

Fizboulan smiled. “One beyond your imagination. A place of magic and wonder and sights like few have ever seen. But amazing as it is, you will soon come to feel it is your true home — the place you are destined for.”

“Destined?”

“Yes, and this is the important part,” Fizboulan said. “For this world is threatened by a dark force led by the evil Malorth. He has immense power and seems unstoppable, but there was a prophecy that one very special boy would be able to stand against him. That is you, Benjamin.”

“I am prophesized to fight this great evil?”

“Yes, the prophecy told of one who could stand to the great evil — a boy born under the blood moon with the mark of a dragon on him.”

Benjamin pulled back his sleeve to show the red mark on his arm. “You mean this birthmark on my arm all the other boys make fun of?”

“That is it. It is so foolish that they make fun of that mark when it tells the world you are the greatest of them all. We looked everywhere for one who fit the description — the boy with the dragon on his right arm.”

Benjamin furrowed his brow. “It’s on my left arm.”

“Huh?” Fizboualn looked down at Benjamin’s arm. He then pulled a parchment out of his robes.

“What’s that?” Benjamin asked.

“The prophecy.” Fizboulan began to frown. “Hmm. Looks like a mistake might have been made.”

“A mistake?”

Fizboulan smiled, but it was very fake. “Oh boy, is my face red. If only there was a spell to remove embarrassment. Apparently, there was some clerical error.”

“So, are we going to your magical world?”

“Well... I am.” He chuckled, but there was a nervous quality to it. “And believe you me, I’m going to have some stern words with my secretary.”

“And what about me?”

“Well... you’re going to keep doing what you’re doing.”

Benjamin frowned. “Being miserable in an orphanage? Can’t I do magic?”

“No, I’m afraid you’re a plorp — that’s what we call someone who can’t do magic.”

“That doesn’t sound very nice,” Benjamin said.

“Well... we don’t hang out with lots of plorps,” Fizboulan answered, “so it doesn’t matter what we call them.”

“But I want to be a part of this magical world you mentioned!”

“But you wouldn’t fit in as a plorp,” Fizboulan said, and when seeing Benjamin’s frown, added, “Plus, I oversold it. It’s not that interesting. Once you’ve seen one unicorn, you’ve seen them all. I mean, it’s just a horse with a horn, you know?”

“Please, I’ll do anything to get out of this orphanage! I mean, you mentioned this Malorth guy was trying to destroy the world or something. You probably need all the help you can get there.”

“That’s... that’s being handled by other people,” Fizboulan said. “I wouldn’t worry about it.”

“No, really, I can do something,” Benjamin pleaded. “Maybe I’m not magical, but I can carry things. I don’t mind if you call me a plorp.”

“We have spells for carrying stuff, sorry,” Fizboulan answered. “Anyway, you look busy here.” Fizboulan motioned to the mess. “I’ll leave you to it. It was nice meeting you, Benjamin. Have a great life!” With that, Fizboulan turned back into a ball of light and floated out of the room.

“Benjamin, have you finished cleaning that soup up yet?” yelled Mr. Graves from outside the kitchen.

“I’M WORKING ON IT!”

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