His right hand made contact with the cool, obsidian orb. No trace of the prior few minutes' excitement existed on its smooth surface, something Matt was grateful for. Slowly, the orb began to glow brown. Matt's heart dropped. An earth sprite. His hands curled up into fists as he shook with frustration and rage. He turned to face the diviner, who would no doubt place her arms around him to console him, just as she did the five other unlucky ones.
But she didn't. Where I had turned my attention away from the orb, she looked at it as if she were enraptured by that brown hue. Why? Those who had gained attention from a deity were always answered by a golden light, as Samuel had demonstrated. Matt's eyes widened as he focused on what lay in front of him. The brown light coalesced much like Samuel's had, becoming a plain and unornamented spear.
He didn't know what to make of it.
"I don't know what to make of this," Hecate's priestess whispered. "I apologize, young Mr. Hammond, but I've never seen anything of the sort. Perhaps if I consulted with some of the others?" She looked at him with an excited look. Matt stood still, hoping that this meant what he thought it did.
"What happens next, priestess?" Matt asked, looking at the eager old lady.
"If you were chosen by a deity, you will have a vision tonight. It will be the only one you will ever share with your patron, and one that you must treasure. If you are lucky, they will explain what has just occurred. I suspect, however, that this is some mutation of a sprite's blessing. It's unheard of, but I've never seen a god display their patronage in this manner," she explained.
Matt, to his annoyance, had to agree with her. What deity would announce themselves with a color resembling that of a donkey's excrement? His faint hope grew dim, but at least he had this mutation. Perhaps it would grant him strength of arms as he had hoped for. Not every warrior could be blessed by a god; there weren't enough such people to form any sizable gathering, let alone an army of thousands.
"Now, if something out of the extraordinary happens, you must see me tomorrow. If I find anything out about your divination, I will seek you out," the priestess promised, ushering him towards the door. Matt went along with it, but he was not eager to return home. After all, it would prove both his parents and his older brother and sister right. He'd been a fool to hope.
His trek back home was long. Hecate's temple rested just on the boundary between the nobles' section of the city and the commoners'. The surrounding area was composed entirely of well-to-do regular families and successful shops, each of them constructed from the white stone his father quarried every day, a stone that brought the entire city of Mayfeld great fame.
Matt lived far, far, far from here. He passed swarms of children running around, swathes of merchants hawking their wares, and clusters of men looking for a drink before heading to work. His father would not be among them today – all parents were granted a day off on their child's sixteenth birthday by the Emperor's decree. Eventually, far outside of Mayfeld's stout walls, he came across the shantytown: his home.
The stink was bearable only because he'd lived in it for so long, but it was about as far as one could go from the tales of majestic cities, like the ones he'd read about in the myths of Ulred. Gods, he'd give anything to visit Highhaven, the Crown City of the Grand Empire. Instead, he stood at the door to a small wooden dwelling, one so crude that it looked like it would fall apart at the slightest touch.
With a deep breath, he entered his home. Despite the early morning, his whole family was awake and waiting for him. Upon seeing his dejected expression, Richard and Adelaine – his siblings – laughed harder than he'd heard them laugh in a long while. They'd been waiting for this.
Surprisingly, they were silenced by a glare from his father, and his parents crossed the small space with great speed, coming to embrace him in a tight hug. Tears now streamed freely down his cheeks, making a mockery of the confidence he had displayed even hours earlier.
"It'll be fine, Matthew," his mom whispered to him.
"We're proud of you," his dad said to him.
He'd been waiting for an "I told you so," but he hadn't expected this. His parents were hardened and expected all of their children to work as hard as they did. They had never understood his desire to learn to read – which he'd accomplished by buying torn primers and books from one of the friendlier merchants – or his need to explore the world. And yet, here they were, assuring him that everything would be alright.
"Thank you," Matt whispered again and again, the words becoming a mantra. He'd face his just desert from his brother and sister later for his softness, but he'd deal with it when it came to it.
After remaining in his parents' arms for a while longer, he wiped his face free of tears. "Earth sprite," he said. His dad's face brightened considerably, and the older Hammond slapped his son on the back.
"You can join me in the quarry, then!" he exclaimed. Richard looked like he had bitten into moldy bread. If anything, this was something Matt could lord over his older brother forever. Like Adelaine, Richard had a fire sprite's blessing, restricting him to tasks like cooking. He didn't have the same affinity for stone that Matt would surely achieve, and it meant that he couldn't accompany their father to work.
"Let's sign me up tomorrow?"
"Sure, son."
With the unexpected comfort and pleasantly light day, Matt had forgotten all about that spear that had appeared in his orb.