A tense silence envolped the city of Waleuon as they gathered at the city center, the soumd of the water gushing from the marbel fountain and the rustling of the trees as birds chirped their sing-song tune.

They waited patiently and silently, apart from the soft breeze in the evening air and young children murmuring amongst each other.

A short old man with whispy grey hair and a peach-fuzz goatee stumbled out from behind a red velvety curtain and onto a podium. His boney fingers skimmed over a rolled up scroll. He gingerly unrolled it, reading over the words with pursed lips and furrowed brows, before his face lit up.

He looked over at the crowd, his dark green eyes obversing them. He cleared his throat, the crowd staring at him, curious.

"Welcome, people of our fair city," he started, "to the choosing!"

They crowd let out a wave of polite cheering and clapping, a few whistles and people sounding out "praise Queen Ehtra!"

"The choosing is a sacred ceremony that has been part of our rich heritage for seventeen generations. It is what brought the four quarters of the realm together. Today, we shall choose a young soul to become our worlds next hero," he paused, the people applauding with cheerful yells.

"With that said,"  he paused, "I, algumn Scro, will announce our city's Heroic youth, just as my forefathers have for the past seventeen generations."

He waited as another wave of cheering died down, a ghost of a smile plastered on his wrinkled face. "Our Heroic youth, by order or Queen Ehtra herself, humbly read by myself, is..." He paused, looking at the crowd for dramatic effect.

"Tareo Miy Valost, an earth harnesser, come forth"

The crowd looked around crazedly, wanting to take a glimpse at the chosen hero.

A teen at the edge of the crowd with black hair and piercing dark green eyes was escorted up by two men dressed in red and white garments.

He was pushed up the steps of the podium, his body shaking violently with nerves. He gingerly stepped up to the old man, pushing his curled hair out his emerald eyes.

Algumn bowed his head to Tareo, his crooked boney fingers making a circle that he place over his heart. His head lifted, and he saw the teen nervously shuffling around, trying not to look out of place, although it was very hard. He wore ripped black pants and a sacred green half-chewed by moths crop-top, with olive brown boots, his dirty-socked toes peaking out.

Algumn motioned for a woman, dressed in a beautiful navy blue winter dress holding a white porcelain box. She strutted forth, her high heels making a  clacking noise. She opened the box and took out a plush white pillow, presenting it carefully to Algumn Scro.

He took a small silver ring embedded with a green jewel in the center. He held it up to the crowd, the silver glinting beautifully in the afternoon sunshine.

"This, my people, is the sign of the hero of Waleuon. It represents courage, strength and, above all else, hope."

He gestured for Tareo's tattooed hand. He give it too him, looking around unsurely, his emerald eyes glinted with uncertainties untold. Algumn slipped the ring onto the ring finger.

"Show the city your hope." He muttered in Tareo's ear, pointing to the ring.

Tareo turned to face the crowd. He slowly rose the hand with the silver ring; his hope, to the crowds of people.

The people stood still and voiceless for several moments, staring in awe at their new hero.

Then, one person clapped, then another three. Then forty-five, then a hundred.
Soon, the entire city was cheering for their hero. Their saviour.

Their hope.

"Rejoice, people of Waleuon, for our hero, Tareo Miy Valost has arisen to glory!" Algumn Scro shouted, raising his hands, a sign to elevate their applause. The polite cheers turned into loud, ecstatic cries, and the city was soon in joyful tears.

"Show them how powerful you are, my hope." Algumn Scro exclaimed proudly to Tareo, shaking his hand.

"I- I will sir. I promise you." He stuttered, but his nervous gain was wide, and his green eyes were wide with joyful shock.

Tareo was their hope. Theirs and the rest of the world's. They were all relying on him to save them all from a deathly evil that could crush him to pieces with a look.

No pressure. None at all. Only the fate of the world as they knew it.

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I know I said this would ne, like, 5k, but I'd rather make it short but sweet, without the, er... chaotic things.
*cough* Ash *cough*