Lira stepped forward toward the grand entrance of the church, her excitement barely contained as the heavy doors closed behind her. Athan waited outside, sitting on the cold stone steps, watching other children with their families, nervous anticipation visible in all their faces. The towering spire of the church cast long shadows over the gathered crowd, each family awaiting their turn for their child's blessing.
Inside, the church was vast and solemn. A single towering pillar dominated the center of the chamber, representing all the gods. No statues adorned the space, only the divine symbols etched into the pillar's surface, marking the elements—wind, fire, earth, water, light, shadow, and more—each representing the different affinities a soul could connect with. The air was thick with incense, and the soft murmur of clerics attending the ceremony added a quiet reverence to the sacred space.
Lira stood before the great pillar, her small hands trembling slightly as she reached out to touch the cold stone. For a moment, there was silence. Then, a gentle, green light began to glow around her, growing brighter with each passing second. The clerics exchanged knowing glances, whispering amongst themselves.
The glow enveloped Lira, a warm energy surging through her body as the blessing of Azura, the goddess of fertility and harvest, took hold. Her connection to life and the earth was undeniable, as if the very soil beneath her feet pulsed in rhythm with her heartbeat. She smiled, eyes wide with awe at the feeling of power within her.
When the glow faded, she was ushered out of the church, her steps light and her heart filled with joy. As she approached Athan, her face was still glowing with excitement. "Athan, it was incredible! I could feel the earth itself—Azura blessed me. I can't wait to see what blessing you'll get!"
Athan smiled, happy for his sister, but also anxious about his own turn. He stood as Lira rejoined their parents, and now it was his time to step forward.
---
Inside the church, Athan felt dwarfed by the vastness of the chamber and the weight of the pillar before him. The room seemed even larger and more imposing now that he was alone, the symbols etched into the stone glowing faintly, as if waiting for something to happen.
A cleric motioned him forward. "Place your hand on the pillar, and we shall see the blessing the gods have in store for you." The elder's voice was calm but held an undercurrent of expectation.
Athan obeyed, placing his small hand on the cold stone just as Lira had. He closed his eyes, waiting to feel the surge of energy, the light, the connection that his sister had described so vividly.
But there was nothing.
Moments passed. The silence in the room grew heavier. The clerics exchanged uneasy glances, their expressions clouded with confusion. The elder frowned, stepping forward with a look of concern. "Sometimes… there are those whose souls have no affinity with the gods. It's rare, but when a child fails to receive a blessing, it can indicate… something darker. The path of the wicked, of those who walk in the shadows."
His words hung in the air, thick with implication. Athan's heart raced as he sensed the fear in the elder's voice, the slight tremor in his hands. Before Athan could react, a faint light began to emerge from above, illuminating the chamber with a dim, ethereal glow.
The clerics stopped in their tracks, their eyes wide with surprise. The light wasn't connected to any god they recognized. It was weak, almost ghostly, but it was there.
"An unknown blessing..." the elder muttered, half in awe, half in fear.
The light flickered once and then vanished, leaving behind no obvious mark of power. But it was enough. The blessing, however strange, had saved Athan from the fate the elder hinted at—being cast out or worse, condemned as a child of darkness.
The elder cleared his throat, still unsettled. "You have received a blessing," he said, though his voice lacked the confidence it held with other children. "Congratulations."
Relief washed over Athan as he stepped back, the weight of uncertainty lifting slightly. Though the blessing had been peculiar and weak, it was enough to protect him from the suspicion that might have followed. As he exited the church, the clerics watched him with mixed expressions—curiosity, wariness, and something close to fear.
---
When Athan stepped outside the church, his father and Lira were waiting for him, their faces full of expectation. But as soon as they saw his expression, they knew something was wrong. Athan approached them, his shoulders heavy with disappointment.
"Athan, what happened? Did you get a blessing?" Lira asked eagerly.
He hesitated, looking at the ground before speaking. "I did… but it wasn't what I hoped for." His voice wavered slightly. "I don't even know which god blessed me. It was... weak. Nothing like what I imagined."
Lira and their father exchanged glances. She stepped forward, trying to comfort him. "It doesn't matter if the blessing wasn't what you expected. You don't need to be strong right away to become strong later, right? There are other ways."
His father nodded, placing a reassuring hand on Athan's shoulder. "Your blessing doesn't define who you are. I know you wanted to be like the heroes in the stories, but there's more than one path to becoming strong. The world is full of possibilities. You just need to find your own way."
Athan sighed, but his father's words offered some comfort. Still, deep down, he couldn't shake the disappointment. All his life, he had dreamed of receiving a powerful blessing, of becoming someone great, just like the hero in his father's stories. Now, that dream seemed farther away than ever.
But as the afternoon sun cast its golden light over the city, Athan couldn't help but wonder—what kind of blessing had he received? And why had it come from a god no one knew?
He glanced at Lira, who smiled warmly at him. "We'll figure it out together," she said, her voice filled with optimism.
Athan managed a small smile in return. Perhaps his journey was just beginning, and while his blessing may have been unknown, the future still held endless possibilities.