Seshka burst through the doorway crying, one hand pressed to her face.

  Her father looked up instantly from his desk.

  “Little one,” he said, already rising. “What happened?”

  She pulled her hand away, revealing the swelling dark bruise beneath her eye. “Lakita,” she sobbed, her voice trembling with anger as much as anything else.

  “Come, sit down. Tell me all about it.”

  Jarred put his arm around Seshka, gently squeezing her shoulder with his large hand, and guided her to the bench at the back of the room. She fell into his embrace, feeling that sense of safety and belonging.

  “Okay, little one. Take your time. What happened?”

  It had been Seshka’s first day at the Spearhead Sect. She’d earned a place due to her father’s actions during his service. Even though he’d been discharged a few years ago, his efforts in the Antex siege had not been forgotten.

  “It… it was all going fine at first. We were addressed by Master Silgan about our duties and responsibilities, given our assignments, and met with some instructors. We were then given time to get to know the other unproven.”

  Seshka wiped at her mouth, her crying turning into little sniffles as she continued to explain the day’s events.

  “I introduced myself to a few people. They seemed nice. Then I spoke to Safia. She looked sad. Her mother had just died in the winter. I said I know how it feels, then Lakita must have heard and she came over.

  “She told everyone I don’t know anything. How could I know? My mother is still alive — she just left, ran away from me. It’s not the same as having a parent die.” People gasped as if I was in the wrong.”

  Seshka went quiet for a moment, her father letting her think. She knew it must be hard losing a mother to death, but at least you knew, at least you mattered to them. Instead of a mother that just didn’t care. Why, in all the multiverse, did she have a mother that didn’t want her child? Had she done something wrong? Was it her? The thought of not being good enough, the unknowing, ate at her more than anything.

  She sniffled again and continued. “I turned around to leave, then she started on my appearance. How my boots were older than her grandfather, and why my braces looked big enough to fit a grown man.

  “I lost my temper.”

  She looked into her father’s eyes, apologetic. He met hers with a stern gaze.

  “Continue.”

  “I ran at her, grabbing her hair and hitting her. I just wanted her to shut up. She got a few hits back at me before we were broken up by Master Silgan.”

  Her father looked at her and spoke softly.

  “This is the last time this is to happen. I will speak to Master Silgan. But Seshka, you need to control that temper. Think with this, not this.”

  Her father pointed to her head, then her heart, his finger lingering on the latter as he continued.

  “You are going to find it harder than most. You will struggle, but that struggle is what is going to define you. You will stand tall on initiation day, wearing the sect’s finest, and be offered the chance to change worlds.”

  Seshka smiled, her eye beaming just as bright.

  “Tell me again the story of the gods, of the multiverse, please.”

  Her father leaned back, pulled her in tight, and spoke of times long past — a time before even life existed in the multiverse.

  “The gods roamed the universe endlessly. Some fought, others joined forces, but ultimately nothing changed, as no other life existed, well mortal life that is. Time carried on for an eternity, until even the most absent gods could no longer bear it.

  That is when they all agreed something had to change, and change it did. They all gathered at a place known as the Verge. There, they used their collective power and tore the universe apart, creating the multiverse we have today.

  The gods were weakened and trapped behind the Verge, until one day they can all remerge and join the multiverse once more. And on that day, power will be released. A power that will push our people forward. We will all grow, and so will our gods.

  The system has told us as much. For there are some who are given a seventh choice on initiation day. When they turn eighteen and the system offers them a choice, if lucky enough, they will be able to join the gods in their final push as the Verge opens up. Great honour and rewards will be bestowed on them.

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  You, Seshka, will have this choice. I am certain of it. The sect will help you grow, teach you how to fight, hone your skills. So, when you accept and stand before our great god, Camulos, you will be victorious in battle.”

  Seska smiled and dreamed as she leaned further into her father.

  Her father was not wrong. The sect training was hard — harder than she could ever have imagined. But she believed in what her father had told her: that she was destined to stand with the gods, and with it, she would bring glory. Not just to the sect, or the empire as a whole, but to her father. He would stand at the apex with her.

  Seshka wiped the sweat from her brow as she held out a hand to Draden, the other unproven she had just knocked to the ground for the seventh time that day.

  “I have had enough. One can only take a beating for so long. Shouldn’t you be preparing for tomorrow anyway? Initiation day and all that,” Draden said, getting to his feet with Seshka’s help.

  “I need to train. I have to be at my best if I am to stand with Camulos and defeat our enemies.”

  “Seshka, you take it all a bit too seriously. Oh, don’t look now, but here is Lakita, with her troop of sycophants.”

  “Hi, Draden,” Lakita said in a flirting manner, the tone turning more venomous as she greeted Seshka. “Hi, Seshka. I see your initiation is tomorrow. Well, at least then we can stop hearing about how you’re going to stand with the gods.”

  The other girls with Lakita giggled as Seshka took a step forward, Draden holding onto her arm.

  “Don’t. That’s what she wants.”

  “Anyway, we don’t have time for this. Master Silgan has put out the chosen’s attire for tomorrow. He said it would be good for all late tier to go and see it — to see what the sect offers for one that will be offered the ultimate gift by the system.”

  Seshka’s eyes widened as Lakita and the other girls scuttled off, all chatting amongst themselves. She had known what an initiate wore as they sought the system options, but she’d never seen them up close.

  The leather boots, skirt, and vest the best sect could make, crafted out of true draconic scales. Where the sect had gotten them from, nobody knew. They were said to have their own properties to enhance the wearer.

  A special bag filled with potions and elixirs for their journey. It was said the great Hallamx had bestowed this on the sect from his own personal collection. The cost of this alone was more than the entire sect owned. This showed just how much importance was put on being chosen by the system for this privilege.

  The spear of Kallen Rock. First Kinght Kallen Rock had used it in battle for over a hundred years, the sect’s most prolific fighter. He had slain more than any other in history, the blood of the fallen empowering the weapon.

  Then there was the Buckler of Barrack, there was little information shared about this item compared to the rest but here were rumours. Rumours that said the buckler could block attacks by itself. Seshka had no idea how this would work, but they were just rumours.

  She looked at Draden. “We have to go see. We just have to.”

  “Are you sure? You get to wear it all tomorrow, for at least a little while anyway.”

  Seshka gave Draden a look of disgust. How dare he suggest it was not going to be hers. Her whole life, from joining the sect at eight, had been about getting to this point. There was no way she would fail.

  “Come on. We’ll get changed and head over. By that time Lakita will be gone, and we won’t have to look at her stupid face.”

  They both rushed off to change, a spark of excitement building in Seshka’s gut.

  Seshka and Draden entered the sacred hall and, as Lakita had said, there was the chosen apparel, displayed on the stage. It hung glowing on a training dummy made of polished wood.

  “Oh my… oh my,” Seshka said in amazement as she approached the stage. She was in awe as her hand brushed against the leather vest.

  “It’s just, It’s perfect

  Her hand went to the spear as she lifted it from its placement, letting the weight gently ease into her grip. She twirled it in her hand, making a stabbing movement into the air. She felt an almost indescribable connection to it, like she was meant to wield it. She smiled and turned to Draden, and behind him, coming through the doorway, Lakita, followed by Master Silgan.

  “See, Master, I told you,” Lakita said. “She said she didn’t care about the sect’s rules. She said the staff belonged to her, so she was going to take it now.”

  Master Silgan stormed to the stage, ripping the spear from Seshka’s hand. “It is forbidden for an unproven to touch it before initiation. How dare you break the sacred rules of the sect.” Lakita smiled at Seshka from behind the Master.

  The world darkened around Seshka. How could she have been so blind? This was all a set-up. This was an evil ploy by Lakita, and she had fallen for it without hesitation.

  “I have no other option, Seshka Mamonteth. You are hereby expelled from the sect. You are stripped of privilege and rank. Now leave before I have you removed.”

  Seshka’s eyes widened. What had she done? It was the day before initiation, the day before her eighteenth birthday, when the system would give her the chance to stand with the gods.

  “Go now. Get out of my sight,” Master Silgan roared as he turned from Seshka and placed the spear back in its holder.

  Seshka walked, lost in her own world of shock and fear, not even noticing the huge grin on Lakita’s face as she left.

  She walked all the way home in that state, trying to think, but not one thought would stabilise in her head. She barely noticed anything as she walked through the door and saw her father sitting at his desk.

  “Are you okay? Looks like you saw the abyss, girl.”

  Her face cracked and she fell to her knees.

  “I… I… I messed up. It’s all over. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

  Through sobs and tears — something she hadn’t done since she was a young girl — she explained what she had done, how she had ruined everything. How she’d her excitement of being so close to initiation had blinded her to Lakits’s evil schemes. Her father just listened patiently, not saying a word.

  He made her an herbal tea, something he had learned during his time at war, watching as she drank it all down, still in a state of shock. Seshka thought as she slowly started to drift off, her thoughts becoming slow, thoughts of how it was all over, how she’d let everyone down, how her story had ended before it had truly begun.

  Jared held his daughter, as she fell asleep in his arms. He picked her up and carried her to bed, gritting through the pain as his wounded leg took the weight. He stood there for while looking at his daughter sleep, marvelling at the young woman she had turned into.

  He knew Master Silgan; he knew him well. They had both fought at Antex, both loved the same woman, both hated one another. But this was Seshka, and damn to hell with his feelings, and that of Silgans. He’d make the old fool but this right, no matter the cost.