Shadows cast by the sparse mana lamps danced against the finely carved stone walls and polished ash oak floors. Without conscious thought, I strode along the boards I knew wouldn’t creak and past masterful depictions of Ylena’s early miracles as I opened the door to my room.

  For the standards of the Cult, my room was lavish. In the far corner was a wardrobe mom had brought back from one of her trips as ambassador for the Weeping Forest. The man who’d gifted it to her had claimed it was thousand-year-old oak, but I’d seen a true thousand-year-old oak during last year’s pilgrimage to the Sacred Grove and the wardrobe lacked the spiritual luster of the real deal. Placed in the position of pride amongst a sizeable collection of artworks, knickknacks, and trophies was a tapestry that Ylena herself had gifted to me when I was ten and had seen her true form for the first time. Ylena had her foot pressed against the neck of the centaur Medantes, a spear of living wood ready to make the killing thrust.

  I let out a sigh as I landed on the furs of my bed. One of Mera’s [Clerics] would arrive any day now and bring with them an Awakening Stone. Like any kid, I’d been eager to awaken the System for as long as I could remember, but now the thought, like so many things, carried a new sense of dread with it as well.

  Being Awakened to the System provided you with an opportunity to be better than you were the day before; to be worthy. The System didn’t just hand you power, however; it provided guides and teachers for you to learn from. The rest was up to a person’s own will. Normally, that thought of that would have brought me nothing but excitement, but ever since the birth of Helena, the responsibility I had to my people had become real, tangible in a way it hadn’t been before.

  Reasonably, I knew that no matter what I did, people would care for Helena. Even were she not another of Ylena’s chosen, her grandmother would never allow harm to befall her. The same was true for the people of the Cult. They had protectors already, but this was my purpose, my duty. I needed to be involved in providing not only for my daughter but for my people as well.

  As I felt myself spiral down a well-worn trail of anxiety, I closed my eyes and tried to take calming breaths. Blindly, I patted the nightstand until I found the leather bundle I was looking for. Delicately, I untied the loose knot that held the bundle closed and revealed a carefully preserved willow leaf. It was the size of my palm and held all the washed-out purple hues of a summer sunset.

  Gently, I held the leaf up before me and ran my thumb along its face. The texture was what I imagined rubbing fine silk was like, the kind I only ever read about in the plays within my mom’s library. I focused on the sensation of the leaf in my hand and began a meditation technique taught to me during my first year in the Order of the Black Hand. The steady breathing and sensation of the leaf against my fingers brought me back to the present and away from thoughts of all that was riding on me. Yet, even after grounding my thoughts in the present, worries over my future class were inescapable with the Awakening ceremony so close.

  Of the three foundational classes, I already knew I would not be a [Mage]. I’d always been terrible with mana control, and as my mom liked to say, I was a ‘bull in a tea house’. That didn’t mean the thought of becoming a [Mage] wasn’t tempting. I’d read plenty of stories about [Mages] on the Hymeri Coast living in ivory towers, and I could only imagine the cost of constructing a structure like that.

  [Apprentice] was the other foundational class I thought I’d be offered and reject. It was a fine class, meant to allow the newly awakened time to choose a dedicated craft while still building their general skills. I just lacked the control required to be an artisan. At six ten I was already one of the tallest members of the Cult and would only continue to grow, not to mention my hands weren’t the delicate tools required for fine detail work. They were hammers.

  [Warrior] was the last of the foundational classes and the one I’d probably end up selecting. I’d been involved with the Cult’s military and the Black Hands since I was a child. The Martial Path was what I was born for. I’d be lying, however, if I said [Warrior] didn’t hold an appeal outside my duty. I’d grown up on books about adventurers like Ajax the Wise and Dragomir the Valient, both of which had started their lives as [Warriors], and following in their footsteps held a certain amount of appeal.

  Ultimately, the details of my class were inconsequential, because no matter what happened, I would not let it stop me from fulfilling my duties. Both to the people of the Cult, and to my daughter. I knew I was required to leave the forest, but Rebecca and I would figure out how I could stay within my daughter’s life.

  ~***~

  The sound of a woodpecker searching for its breakfast in a nearby birch jolted me awake. It took a moment for the sound to register, but when it did, I flung my furs off in a panic. I got dressed in my ceremonial finery as fast as I had ever gotten dressed and rushed out of the house, pausing only to say goodbye to my mom.

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  The walk from my house to the village center usually took five minutes but, in my haste, my already long stride ate the ground before me. Gravel crunched underfoot as I passed the small one or two-room houses that composed most of Twin Oak. As I passed, people my age would occasionally rush out of their homes in a similar haste, shouting rapid goodbyes as they stuffed down breakfast, as we all rushed to the village center.

  I gave quick helloes to the people I passed on my way. The looks of reverence I sometimes saw in their eyes had always felt unearned. That feeling had grown over the years as I understood my place in the Cult’s hierarchy.

  I knew I was close to the center when the gravel road abruptly transitioned to polished cobblestone, each side of the road lined with a mosaic of vines in white stone. From there, it only took me a minute to enter the village center.

  The center was a roughly circular plaza dominated by the lightning-split oak tree that was the village’s namesake. A crowd had already formed in the center, gathered around something just behind the Twin Oak from where I was. With care, I pushed through the crowd of people. As they recognized me, a small path opened before me. Once I reached the front of the crowd, I instantly noticed the cart parked in front of the Twin Oak and the Awakening Stone resting on its bed.

  The cart was bare of design but masterfully crafted and well taken care of. Four sturdy wheels and three shallow walls were all that supported the System’s interface with the material plane. The cart was so ubiquitous with Mera’s worship that it had become a primary symbol for some of her cults. Part of me had hoped the visiting [Cleric] would arrive with a custom cart instead of the standard design handed out to every [Cleric] whose round took them to places without their own Awakening Stone. In the stories I’d grown up with the heroes always Awakened with a stone on a custom cart pulled by some fantastical creature instead of the bog-standard cart and donkey before me.

  I shelved my disappointment at the less than grand cart and shifted my focus to the Awakening Stone. The massive ink black gemstone leaned against the shallow wooden walls of the cart. Shaped like a sword blade, the Awakening Stone was a full six feet and came to a sharpened point at the tip that could probably cut flesh if you weren’t careful.

  Along the flat of the gem, spots of glimmering light flashed in and out of view at random until, from the chaos, Estella’s Eye formed. A constellation whose pupil always faced South and allowed for navigation through the Emerald Ocean. Estella’s Eye disappeared and more lights flashed at random until the Golden River appeared, a river of stars that was the runoff from Mera’s divine realm. Drawn into the beauty of the System construct, I watched constellations flash and disappear along its face. A voice that sounded like crushed gravel broke my focus when it gave a polite cough and spoke.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, please. I know today is exciting, but if you would allow the children through, we can begin the ceremonies.”

  Mera’s [Cleric] wore nothing but rough-sewn pants. His skin was a ruddy brown and his hair fell down below his chest in well-maintained dreadlocks. I’d never seen someone without the telltale pale skin of life in the forest before and was a little surprised by the man.

  “That said, those of you who have just reached the age of majority, please step forward.”

  I moved forward at the same time as others did, but at the sight of me, they all slowed down slightly and allowed me to be the first to reach the [Cleric]. He had to crane his neck back to look into my eyes, but my own remained focused on the flashing constellations of the Awakening Stone.

  “You’re a large one, aren’t you?” The [Cleric] asked, his voice filled with surprise and subtle mirth.

  “I am, sir.” People had asked me the same question since I was six and the answer had long become routine.

  “Can’t fault a man for his size.”

  I looked down at the priest in mild surprise. People asked more questions. Usually some version of ‘you sure you’re only sixteen?’ The [Cleric] stepped away from me and turned to face the rest of the crowd.

  “Gather ‘round children. Before I let you touch the Awakening Stone, I need to go over some basic details. That way, no one’s surprised when they get in there.”

  “Once you place your hand on the Awakening Stone, the System will guide your spirit into a demi-plane within the stone. The environment of the plane is unique to the person, but have no fear. Nothing within can hurt you. To find your class choices, all you have to do is follow your instincts; your spirit already knows what to do, you just have to listen.

  “Once you have gained your class, I ask you leave the square. There are plenty of people here and I have no doubts the adults are just as eager to advance as you are.”

  The [Cleric] scanned the crowd with his steel-blue eyes and, after a momentary pause, noticed a small hand raised by an even smaller girl I’d never met before. However, she resembled Davis – an older boy I used to train with before he failed out of the Black Hands - enough that she was probably his little sister. When the [Cleric] acknowledged her, she puffed up her chest and squared her shoulders before speaking. That slight movement was enough to confirm that she was Davis’ sister, as I’d seen him do that same movement hundreds of times.

  “What if we aren’t offered any classes?” The girl’s voice was quiet yet forceful, and even speaking in the Trade Tongue, her tone carried the melody of a native Grace Chant speaker.

  “An excellent question, thank you.” The [Cleric] said with a gentle smile and a nod. “There is only one way, now or in the future, to be denied a class; to deface an Awakening Stone. And unless I’ve missed my guess, none of you fine folk have done that.”

  To deface an Awakening Stone was taboo to every nation and culture I’d ever read or heard about, and would get you killed or exiled in most of them. Which is why every man, woman, and child in the square vigorously denied having done so. The [Cleric] gave a quiet chuckle at our discomfort, then asked if anyone had anymore questions.

  When no one asked a question, he called to make a line in front of him so he could begin with the Awakenings.

  I stepped forward and, like before, everyone gave way to allow me to the front. The person who’d previously held the front spot stepped aside, bowed slightly, and offered a tradition prayer to Iona in my name.

  I was still getting used to receiving that kind of reverence from the people around my age, but I’d had it beaten into me long ago that to deny my people their faith in me was an insult both to them and to Ylena and her daughters.

  When I stood before the [Cleric], I saw him slightly raise an eyebrow as he reevaluated me and stepped forward to speak in a voice only I could hear.

  “Mera guide you child. When you are ready, you may step forward and place your hand on the Awakening Stone.”

  “Thank you, sir.” I said with a deep bow.

  When I straightened and stepped forward to lay my hand on the massive gemstone, it was in time with the appearance of the Wyrmling constellation.