The Next Day...
Alaric was preparing to leave with his father. He had packed everything he needed and slung his satchel over his shoulder. Meanwhile, Gregory waited downstairs.
"Hurry up, Alaric! We need to leave before the line at the Sacred Temple gets too long," Gregory called out.
Alaric descended the stairs slowly, his bag in tow, and approached his father.
Gregory glanced at Alaric's satchel and asked, "Did you bring everything you need?"
"Yes, Father. I've got everything here, including my books and pens," Alaric replied.
Gregory nodded and held Alaric's hand as they stepped out of the inn.
"See you later, Uncle!" Alaric waved to John with a cheerful smile.
John responded with a gentle wave and a quiet smile, saying nothing.
As Gregory and Alaric strolled through the bustling city streets toward the Sacred Temple, Alaric marveled at his surroundings. The city was filled with towering buildings adorned with colorful decorations that stretched across the rooftops, tied to the structures like vibrant ribbons.
To his right, Alaric noticed a storyteller surrounded by an eager crowd, recounting tales that captivated their attention. To his left, merchants displayed an array of trinkets and treasures, each more dazzling than the last, drawing in curious passersby.
While Alaric took in the sights, a figure cloaked in deep red passed by them. The stranger's robe concealed his entire body and face. Gregory seemed unfazed and continued walking, but Alaric couldn't help but glance back at the mysterious figure.
"What's caught your attention, Alaric? Did you see something interesting?" Gregory asked, noticing his son's lingering gaze.
Alaric turned to his father and spoke softly. "I don't know, Father. There's something... strange about that person in the red cloak."
Hearing this, Gregory halted and fixed his gaze on the cloaked figure in the distance. After a moment, the figure disappeared into the crowd, and Gregory resumed walking with Alaric.
Minutes later, they arrived at the Sacred Temple. The temple was an immense white structure, towering two to three times higher than any other building in the city. Its unique architecture featured ancient sacred inscriptions carved into its walls. At the front stood a grand fountain, with a statue in its center.
The statue depicted an elderly figure holding a staff in one hand and a book in the other, standing tall amidst the flowing water.
Curious, Alaric turned to his father. "Father, who is that statue of?"
Gregory smiled gently. "That is Oryn, the god of wisdom. He holds all knowledge in his hands and guides us with his boundless wisdom."
Alaric silently gazed at the statue, his mind filled with questions. Moments later, a cleric from the temple approached them.
"Greetings. I am Arden, a cleric of this temple. You must be Mister Gregory, and this young man must be Alaric?" the cleric asked.
"We received a letter regarding your visit a few days ago."
"Yes, that's correct. This is my son, and I've brought him here to have his talents evaluated," Gregory replied.
"Understood. Please, follow me," Arden said, gesturing for them to enter the temple.
Inside, the temple's hallways were long and winding, their intricate designs both mesmerizing and disorienting. After navigating the labyrinthine corridors, they stopped in front of a large door.
"My apologies, Mister Gregory, but only your son may enter. The Seers are very particular about who they meet and prefer to speak only with those directly involved," Arden explained, attempting to ease Gregory's concern. "Your son will be fine. This won't take long."
Gregory hesitated but nodded. "Go on, Alaric. I'll be waiting for you."
Alaric stepped through the door, finding himself in a dimly lit chamber. At its center sat a figure cloaked entirely in black, her face obscured by a black veil.
"Come closer, child," the figure said in a voice that was calm yet carried an air of authority.
Alaric cautiously approached and sat across from the figure.
"Give me your hand," the Seer instructed, her voice steady and emotionless.
Alaric extended his hand, and the Seer grasped it tightly. She fell silent, holding his hand as if searching for something unseen.
The Seer, an elderly woman hidden beneath a veil, observed the flow of energy within Alaric. Her mind raced. "Impossible... This child possesses extraordinary potential... no, this isn't just extraordinary—he has two rare talents . The first is Hex Master, and the second is Mage. While Mage is a common talent often seen, the potential within this child is unparalleled. If he fully awakens his potential, he could unlock his talent as a Hex Master and become a Warmaster. And if he awakens his magical talent, he will become an Archmage. To think that such rare talents—Warmaster and Archmage—are possessed by a child... I can't even begin to imagine what he will become when he grows up."
She tightened her grip on Alaric's hand, her focus intensifying. Alaric, sensing the increased pressure, remained still, silently hoping the process would end soon.
As the Seer delved deeper, she attempted to glimpse Alaric's future. Instead of clarity, she was met with confusion. Her vision was filled with faceless figures, their features indistinct. Above them, the sky split apart, revealing radiant beings soaring through the heavens.
Panic set in as the Seer struggled to comprehend the chaotic scene. Whispers in an unknown language filled her ears, growing louder with each passing second.
Suddenly, a shadowy figure emerged, its form shrouded in darkness. Its piercing eyes glowed like embers as it extended a hand toward her.
"You've seen what you were not meant to see," the figure declared.
In an instant, the Seer's vision was consumed by an impenetrable darkness. No light, no sound—only a void. She screamed for help, but no sound escaped her lips. Her own voice was swallowed by the abyss.
The shadowy entity drew closer, its glowing eyes fixed upon her. "Forget what you should not have seen," it commanded.