His eyes darkened instantly. “I’ve told you gods know how many times, Arda,” Father hissed, his voice dangerously low. “Speaking of them is forbidden.”

  I swallowed hard. “But, Father…”

  “Enough,” he cut me off, turning away. “Do not test my patience, son. This is an important day. Do not ruin it.”

  “Sorry,” I muttered, keeping my eyes down.

  Once again, I had hoped for answers, but instead, I got nothing in return.

  Naturally, as it happened with pretty much anything regarding the ancient times, no one ever seriously considered those stories about heroes and demons, even though it was common knowledge that bearers of two emblems must have existed at some point in the past; maybe they existed even nowadays, and just didn’t go bragging about it.

  “Come, Arda. The priests of the Order will be here soon,” Father urged for me to follow.

  He had already gained his composure back, as if our conversation had never happened.

  As we entered his study, he gave me a brief explanation of how this would work out.

  The Order of the Stranger was one of the continent’s major religious groups. Among the countless functions it played, it was the main association responsible in matters regarding mage awakenings and emblems’ bestowals.

  Its members were deeply devoted to their cause, believing wholeheartedly in the revelations granted by their goddess, the Nameless One.

  I wonder if that means even they don’t know who they’re worshipping, I thought, trying my best to hold back a laugh. Imagine if the entire Order was built brick by brick on an elaborate prank.

  A chuckle escaped me, but I quickly covered it with a cough, drawing a deadpan expression from my father. “Be on your best behavior,” he stressed, shooting me a meaningful look.

  A few minutes later, two priests were introduced into the study.

  “Noble Gerok, Noble Astel,” Father greeted them before gesturing to me. “This is my son, Arda. As you know, he has yet to be evaluated.”

  The two priests bowed deeply, making me cringe instantly.

  Most people bowed to my parents alone, paying barely any attention to me. And I was perfectly fine with that. I had yet to do anything worthy of those bows.

  “Please, ma’am, sir, there’s no need to bow so deeply,” I hurried to say. “I am not worthy of such honors.”

  I placed a hand over my chest in a polite greeting. “My name is Arda Velya. For as long as this evaluation lasts, I place my trust in your hands.”

  I caught my father’s almost imperceptible nod of approval. I let out a mental sigh of relief. At least I’ve handled this part smoothly.

  As the two of them raised their heads, I shot them a furtive glance.

  They indeed were the priests I’d spotted from the window.

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  Gerok looked exactly like your stereotypical image of a priest: An older man of average height, with the weight of his years most evident in the wrinkles lining his sharp gaze and a round belly hiding beneath his grey gown. Even now, his eyes kept drifting towards Father, as if expecting something.

  Astel, on the other hand, was the complete opposite. She looked rather young, likely a recent initiate to the Order. Like Gerok, she wore simple black robes, in stark contrast to the extravagant pendant hanging from her neck, a large cross adorned with a rose at its center.

  Unlike her companion, her scarlet eyes were glued on my face.

  The moment she realized I had noticed, she quickly averted her gaze, settling on her colleague.

  During this brief exchange of looks, I stayed perfectly still, hoping they would explain what I was needed to do.

  Thankfully, Astel spoke up with a calm and professional voice. “Young master Arda, do you know why we are here today?”

  I thought for a moment before repeating, hopefully word for word, what my father had told me as we stepped into the room. I glanced at my father out of the corner of my eye, hoping for another subtle nod of approval. Yet this time his expression remained neutral and unreadable, completely focused on the priests.

  The two priests seemed unsurprised by my response.

  “We, the priests of the Order, have been granted the ability to peer into souls and question them. Through this process, we can determine whether they have what it takes to awaken as a mage,” said Gerok, slowly clasping his hands behind his back.

  His voice took on a reverent tone. “Great are the powers of our Lady. And great are the miracles we perform in Her name.

  “If you wish,” he continued, his gaze moving just slightly to my father. “We may also pray for an additional revelation, so as to determine the path your magic is destined to take.”

  Father remained completely unmoved by the offer. “Do only what my son asks of you.”

  Gerok’s eyes landed on me. I nodded.

  “Well then, let us begin,” he declared.

  “How long will it take?” I asked, shifting uncomfortably on my feet.

  “Only a few minutes.”

  Really? I thought, actually surprised. Involving divine intervention, I had expected it to take longer. Efficient, this Nameless One.

  “Then I’ll look forward to it.”

  * * *

  I immediately regretted taking his word for it.

  Minutes, my ass.

  Gerok had been chanting for half an hour now. I had no idea what he and Astel were saying—probably some ancient religious chants—but at this point, I was bored out of my mind. To make things worse, the language they were using wasn’t one I recognized.

  I had been studying Elesyen, one of the old magical languages, under master Baryon.

  But this? This was completely different.

  I had asked my tutor before why so many magical texts remained untranslated, but his answer had been vague. He had blabbed something about ensuring the integrity of the original knowledge.

  But come on. No one ever tried translating this stuff?

  Maybe if they did, we wouldn’t be stuck here listening to endless, incomprehensible chanting. I let out a mental sigh and focused on the very few words that rang a bell to me.

  Within minutes, though, I gave up. In a few more minutes, their chanting finally stopped.

  Gerok and Astel were pale. They stood in silence, eyes locked on each other, both looking like they had just seen a ghost.

  “Is there a problem?” My father asked, snapping the two priests out of their daze.

  Astel shook her head. “N-No, my Lord. The ritual was completed successfully. It was… more taxing than expected, but we were able to perform it without any complications.”

  Gerok quickly added, “Yes, indeed. Astel has only recently joined our Order; she’s still struggling to get the hang of these rituals, but I’m sure she’ll be soon handling it effortlessly.”

  Something about his expression made me uneasy.

  “The revelation of our Lady was clear,” Astel announced, her voice now more composed.

  “Congratulations, young master. You have been awakened as a mage.”