The priests began filing out of the inner chamber, their robes of white and gold swaying in unison.

  At their head walked the Archpriest with a golden sphere upon his palm.

  As he mounted the podium, the orb lifted from his hand, floating above his skin and radiating with divine light.

  Behind him came the others, each clutching a copy of the holy scriptures of the Sun Cult. Their voices joined in solemn hymn, praises rising toward the high vaults of the Sun Temple, pleading for grace from the god who watched over the Empire.

  Elden dared a glance into the inner sanctum.

  At its far end stood the colossal idol of Raha, the Sun God, patron deity of the Empire.

  Carved entirely of white marble, the god’s divine form loomed above all, sunlight cascading across its polished surface until it seemed to blaze with radiance that threatened to blind those looked at it without protection.

  A few priests lingered around the idol, offering incense, fruit, and sacrifices in reverent prayer.

  The Archpriest’s voice boomed across the hall.

  “Greetings, noble lords and ladies. You stand in the presence of the radiant Sun God. Pray for deliverance. Pray for guidance. May the path set before you be righteous.”

  His eyes swept over the gathered families, lingering on the rows of anxious children. His lips curved into a knowing smile.

  “But I know well the true reason you have all gathered here,” he said, tone carried a hint of wry amusement. “This is the day of awakening. And I daresay, some of these little devils look anxious enough to faint before we even begin.”

  Gentle laughter rippled through the crowd. The Archpriest set the orb upon a bowl of holy water, where it hovered, shining, illuminating the water with its brilliance. With a flick of his wrist, a scroll appeared in his hand as though conjured from thin air.

  “Let us see… ah. A larger group this year. Nearly double the number of children compared to last year.” His brows lifted. “I suppose that’s no surprise. It’s been nearly 7 years since the last war and after all, when wars end, they leave behind a… certain boom in birthrates.”

  The remark sent a wave of coughing through the hall as parents shifted uncomfortably, avoiding eye contact.

  “Daddy,” a chubby boy asked innocently, “is there a flu outbreak?” His father nearly choked trying to hush him.

  The Archpriest ignored the disruption with the indifference of a man burdened with a higher purpose. His voice grew firm, cutting through the murmurs.

  “I will call each child by name. Only the one summoned will step forward. Understood?” His tone left no room for defiance. None dared even blink in challenge.

  “Good now then let the ritual begin!”

  He raised his scroll and called the first name. “Ander, Carl.”

  A stubby, freckled boy waddled forward, glancing back nervously at his father before climbing the podium.

  “Place your dominant hand on the Orb of Delphi,” the Archpriest instructed, pointing towards the hovering holy orb.

  The boy obeyed the archpriest and reached the holy orb. After a final look back at his expectant father, Carl pressed his palm against the radiant sphere.

  Instantly, golden fire erupted along his arm, racing upward. The boy’s eyes widened in panic, but the flames did not burn.

  Instead, they crawled into his chest and concentrated into a small flame over his heart before vanishing inside.

  The boy winced in pain as the energy surged through him—then a great ethereal form burst from within, materializing above him.

  A towering bear with its joints clad in stone plating, its roar echoing faintly in the chamber.

  “An Earth Bear martial soul,” the Archpriest proclaimed.

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  He scooped holy water with a ladle and poured it over the boy’s head. The golden glow faded, taking the pain along with it, leaving Carl blinking in awe at the beast looming near him.

  “Is it a strong martial soul?” The boy asked the archpriest timidly, glancing at the enormous ethereal bear.

  The Archpriest chuckled. “Strength lies not in the martial soul itself, but in the one who wields it. Every martial soul is made equal. Even a leaf martial soul can become a deadly weapon in the right hands. But for now—yes, it will serve you well and after pairing it with the right bloodline you could be a force to reckon with indeed”.

  Jason leaned toward his son Arden, his tone casual but sharp. “House Ander may be a barony, but a wealthy one. That is a good martial soul. A connection worth cultivating.”

  Arden sighed. “Father, with how much you still advise me, you might as well have kept the patriarch’s seat. I wouldn’t have minded. Why leave me with all the work?”

  “Because you were ready to take the reins,” Jason replied smoothly. “And because an opportunity to become a Minister to the Emperor himself does not wait. I had to seize it for House Talon’s future. You know, as they say, strike when the iron is hot. Besides, the elder council exists to guide you.”

  “Yeah, I know. I do know that you took that post for the benefit of House Talon, to ensure that it gained more political favour and capital, but did you have to leave the reins to me? Why not Mr. Duty over here?” Arden asks while pointing at David who for his part looked offended.

  “As if I would ever take that burden willingly” David muttered under his breath.

  “What was to happen, happened. Why dig up the past, trying to search for an alternative that is no longer viable? And look, turns out it was a fortuitous choice, what with you already having quite the capable heir over here.” Jason says while ruffling Cain’s hair.

  “What is it with you two anyway? Every other noble house schemes for the patriarch’s chair, and here you idiots are, scheming to avoid it.” Jason scoffs.

  David cleared his throat. “Perhaps we could argue less and focus more on the potential alliances to be built with the Houses in attendance or add to our network of connections?”

  While the adults were ‘discussing political strategy’, two more kids had already gone through with the awakening, both from noble families of little importance.

  While the adults spoke in hushed tones of politics, a few more children completed their awakenings with only two martial souls of higher quality appearing — a Flame Crow and a Three-Tailed Fox, respectable martial souls but nothing remarkable or uncommon.

  Then came the name: “Craster, Ivan.”

  A tall boy standing next to his taller and robust father strode forward with confidence rare among children his age.

  As soon as his palm met the holy orb, the flames slithered up his arm similar to what happened with the other kids, and his martial soul slowly coalesced atop him.

  The form coalesced into a spotted feline form. It was a leopard with grey-white fur and black spots. It’s eyes glowed with icy blue light. With each flick of its tail, mist trailed in the air which seemed to freeze at the tip of its tail.

  The Archpriest’s voice rang with rare intrigue. “A Snow Leopard martial soul! Rare indeed. Use it well, boy, for such gifts are not given lightly. This martial soul of yours could prove to be either a formidable partner to you, or it might become a crutch that makes you dependent on it.” He further warned.

  Holy water cascaded over Ivan’s head, and he stood tall, unflinching, his martial soul prowling above him.

  David’s eyes gleamed. “House Craster… newly arisen industrialists who who used to be a family of blacksmiths. New to nobility, lacking political capital. A rare talent in their line. Now would be the time to bind ties.”

  The other men nodded in agreement.

  Elden, however, was lost in his own thoughts.

  ‘What will my soul be?’ he wondered.

  ‘A bird would be perfect—flight would give me freedom to roam the skies to my heart’s content, and it could be a formidable weapon in combat’.

  He was however, rudely awaken from his daydreams by his his cousin who tries to impart wisdom far beyond what even he understands.

  “We should take to care to get close to kids with potential and political value, That’s how House Talon will grow.” Cain advises Elden, who nods his head along while listening to his wiser cousin.

  “How do we invite them to play with us, then?” Elden asked earnestly.

  Cain looked at Elden with amusement.

  “You really only think about playing. You should train like me—we’re not children anymore.” Cain says with absolute confidence.

  “We’re seven, Cain,” Elden retorted. “We’re quite literally children. My father says we should enjoy it while we can.” Elden rolls his eyes saying.

  “Besides, I should have known to expect it from someone known as the ‘old man of House Talon’, always brooding about the duty of nobility and what not, you sure we weren’t exchanged at birth? Because, you behave more like my father, I yours.” Elden goaded Cain.

  “That is not what I am called!” Cain declares red faced and tries to kick Elden, which he dodges with a shit eating grin, thus prompting Cain to tackle him to the ground.

  “Enough!” Arden barked, hauling them apart. “Do you children want to look like fools in front of half the members of prominence in the province? Show some dignity.”

  “But no one can see us,” Cain protested. “The concealment array surrounding us hides us, doesn’t it?”

  “That is still no reason to fight in public, and we only used a minor concealment array.” Arden snapped. “Most won’t pierce it, but some can. You will not risk it. Behave.”

  The boys withered, muttering their apologies.

  Looking at their faces, Arden sighs “Look, just be careful next time, OK?” he says, prompting the troublesome duo to nod.

  “Kolt, Nathan” The archpriest calls out.

  “Look Elden, it’s your friend’s turn now” David says.

  Elden turns and looks at his friend Nathan with anticipation for what his martial soul would be.