Loot slumped over his desk, barely conscious as Professor Ember droned on about the significance of the ritual naming ceremony. The sunlight streaming through the high arched windows of the classroom seemed to mock him, taunting him with its warmth and invitation to sleep.
"Can anyone tell me why the Naming Ceremony was moved to age thirteen?" Ember's voice echoed sharply, like a battle horn interrupting Loot's semi-conscious state.
A few enthusiastic hands shot up. Loot kept his firmly planted on the desk, his head nestled comfortably in the crook of his arm.
"Anyone besides Lyric?" Ember sighed, and the class chuckled. Lyric, ever the overachiever, looked slightly deflated but lowered her hand.
"Fine, I'll explain it myself," the professor continued. "In the days before the Great War, names were given at birth. But as the Unbounds—beings corrupted by the thirst for forbidden knowledge—began to prey on humanity, it became evident that not every child could survive to adulthood. Naming children too young was a dangerous waste of power. The ritual was thus moved to adolescence, when survival was more likely, and a connection to their true essence could be discerned."
Loot felt his eyelids grow heavier. He tried to focus on Ember's voice, but the words blurred together like an overlong chant.
"Through the Naming Ceremony, a child receives their ritual name," Ember went on. "This is not their true name—no, that remains hidden, a secret whispered only to the gods. But the ritual name is a glimpse of their essence, a reflection of who they are and the powers tied to their identity. For a Keeper, it might grant control over their amulet. For a Healer, it amplifies their ability to mend. And for others… well, let's just say not every name carries blessings alone."
Loot's head dropped slightly. Just a quick nap. No one would notice.
________________________
LOOT
The Pavilion of Names loomed ahead, its towering obsidian spires catching the sun like jagged teeth. I shuffled forward in the long line of unnamed children, each of us silent and tense. We were all shadows, undefined and unmoored.
The air was heavy with incense and anticipation. I stole a glance at the child beside me—a wiry figure with sharp eyes and a determined set to their jaw. They noticed me looking and raised an eyebrow, their expression almost challenging.
The line moved forward.
The High Priest stood at the center of the dais, his robes shimmering with threads of gold that seemed to dance in the sunlight. The chants from the acolytes were low and haunting, filling the space like a living thing.
When it was my turn, I stepped forward with shaky legs. The dais felt impossibly large, the weight of a hundred gazes pressing down on me. I knelt beside the sharp-eyed child, our knees touching the cold stone.
"Fear not," the High Priest said, his voice deep and resonant. "You stand at the threshold of identity. Be ready to accept what the gods reveal."
The chanting grew louder, wrapping around me like a cocoon. A golden light began to swirl above us, spinning faster and faster until it was a storm of brilliance.
Then, it hit me—a pressure so immense it felt like I was being pressed into the ground. Images flickered through my mind, too fast to make sense of. Heat surged through my veins, and for a moment, I was certain I would break.
Then, I saw it. A fragment. A glimpse.
The weight lifted suddenly, leaving me gasping for air. My chest felt warm, as if an ember had been placed inside it.
"Rise, young one," the High Priest said, his tone softer now. "You have been named."
The sharp-eyed child helped me to my feet, their grip steady. Their gaze flickered with understanding as they murmured, "Feel heavy, doesn't it?"
I nodded, clutching my chest where the ember of my ritual name burned faintly. It wasn't my true name, but it was a piece of something greater.
_____________________________
"LOOT!"
The sharp bark of the professor's voice yanked him out of his reverie. A piece of chalk sailed across the room, hitting him squarely on the forehead.
The class erupted into laughter as Loot rubbed his forehead, blinking blearily.
"You care to join us, or is your nap more important than the history of your own kind?" the professor snapped.
"No, no, I'm awake!" Loot stammered, sitting up straighter. The snickering continued, but he ignored it, his mind still half-lost in the memory of the ceremony.
As the professor resumed his lecture, Loot stared down at his desk, absently tracing the edge of his notebook.
The Naming Ceremony had given him a sense of identity, a fragment of the divine. But it had also left him with questions. What was his true name? The one the gods kept hidden? And why was it so dangerous for anyone to know it?
"What value is a name, anyway?" he muttered under his breath.
The thought lingered, heavy and unresolved, as the class moved on.
____________________________
As the final touches were placed on their essence project, the group sat back, their faces showing a mixture of exhaustion and satisfaction. The air was filled with a sense of freedom, the kind that only comes after months of collaboration, stress, and moments of pure chaos. The long nights spent piecing things together, figuring out how to make it all work, were finally over.
"Finally!" Violet slumped back in her chair, letting out an exaggerated sigh of relief. "It's done. We're free."
"Free of each other, at least," Lux said, giving the group a pointed look. She adjusted her glasses, her typical no-nonsense demeanor in place, but even she couldn't hide the small smile tugging at her lips.
"Don't be so dramatic," Umber chimed in with a playful smirk. "It's not like we're never going to see each other again. You'll all just miss my charm and sarcasm."
Peach, who had been unusually quiet until now, suddenly perked up. "Honestly, I'm just relieved that I don't have to hear Lux's 'do it right the first time' speech for at least a few weeks. I think I've memorized it at this point."
"Good," Lux retorted. "It means you're learning."
Blade, leaning back in his chair with a relaxed smile, added, "Yeah, yeah, enjoy your victory while it lasts. You know we'll all get back to fighting in the next project, right?"
"Probably," Loot chimed in, bouncing on his heels. He hadn't sat still in a while, unable to contain his excitement. "But hey, at least we won't have to be in the same room all the time. No more weird experiments or Peach's—uh—interesting methods."
Peach gave him a deadpan look. "Don't knock my methods unless you've tried them."
"Oh, I'm good." Loot held up his hands in mock surrender. "No more paint in my hair, thank you very much."
Violet leaned in, adjusting her glasses with that intense look she always got when diving into one of her theories. "You know, I've been thinking about something..."
"Oh no," Umber groaned. "Here we go again with Violet's conspiracy theories."
But Violet was undeterred, clearly fired up. "Hear me out! If our essence project was successful, and we've all been through the ritual naming process, why is Loot the only one with—uh, what's the term? Duplication powers?"
Peach, who had been silently working on a small device, paused to listen. "That's actually a good point. Everyone's powers are linked to their ritual names, but why does Loot's go all… duplicating things?"
Loot chuckled, clearly used to the teasing by now. "It's not like I asked for it. I just—I don't know. It's like… I don't know—copies of myself? Or, like, having a party inside my head. Really not that complicated."
Blade raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "But what did you see when you were named, Loot? I'm guessing it wasn't just a party."
Loot scratched his head. "Honestly? I'm not really sure. I mean, I remember it being… overwhelming, like I was—well, let's just say the whole ceremony didn't quite match up with what I expected. But when they called me 'Loot' during the ritual, it felt like—well, like a mirror. A whole bunch of versions of myself looking back, all at once."
He shrugged. "It was like getting a glimpse of something bigger than just me, like a whole lot of potential packed into a single name. What the priest saw when they called me? No clue. They just had this—well, this look in their eyes. Like they were seeing something they weren't supposed to."
Peach's eyes widened. "Wait, that means there's something deeper to your name, doesn't it? Like, it's not just 'Loot.' It's something more. Something… dangerous."
Lux tilted her head, as if considering the implications. "What if 'Loot' is just a fragment of something else? Something that's yet to be unlocked?"
"Or maybe you're just really good at stealing the spotlight," Umber teased, smirking as she nudged Loot's shoulder.
Loot shot her a playful glare. "Hey, I'm not stealing anything. I just… duplicate things. And sometimes, it's a little out of control."
"I mean, what is it with all of us anyway?" Blade suddenly spoke up, his voice smooth and thoughtful. "You all went through the same ritual, but we've all got these different abilities tied to our names. Maybe there's something more to it. Something about our true names that we're missing."
Violet leaned forward, her usual nerdy enthusiasm palpable. "Exactly! Think about it! What if our ritual names aren't just a marker for who we are now, but who we could be? What if they're a hint, a little breadcrumb trail to finding out what we're really meant to do?"
"Well, I didn't think that deeply about it," Loot said with a grin. "I was just trying to get through it without tripping over my own feet."
The group laughed, but the conversation shifted, and for a moment, there was a silence. They all seemed to be lost in their own thoughts, the weight of their names and what they meant settling over them in a quiet, almost uncomfortable way.
Then, as if on cue, Peach piped up again. "So... what if Loot's powers are just a preview of what's to come? Maybe his name's just part of a bigger thing. Like, what is 'Loot,' really?"
Lux frowned slightly. "You think he's a symbol of something else? Like, what, a chosen one kind of thing?"
Loot scratched his head, clearly enjoying the banter but feeling a little out of his depth. "Look, I'm just here for the free snacks at these ceremonies. Don't go making me out to be some sort of big prophecy."
Violet, always the curious one, turned to Loot with a smile that bordered on mischievous. "So, 'Loot,' huh? That's all they gave you? A name that's a synonym for 'treasure?'"
Loot stuck his tongue out at her. "You guys need to stop thinking so much. Sometimes a name is just a name."
"Yeah," Blade said, his voice cool. "But sometimes, that name is more than just a word. It's part of who you are, and it's part of what's to come."
"Agreed," Lux said. "But whatever happens next, we're all in this together. We're all part of this—whether we like it or not."
"True," Peach agreed, rolling her eyes. "But can we please stop with the heavy stuff? I'm done with all these deep, philosophical moments. I need some fun. Like, I dunno, going out and getting ice cream or something."
The group laughed again, the tension lifting as they all sat back, letting the absurdity of it all settle in. They may not have the answers yet, but for the moment, at least they had each other—and that, it seemed, was enough.
"Alright, alright," Loot said, raising his hands in mock surrender. "Let's just get some ice cream, alright? I've had enough of all these deep thoughts for today."
The group broke into laughter once again, and as they all stood up, it felt like they could breathe a little easier, if only for the moment.