The Awakening

Chapter 2

"Sylvia Athein," High Archon Grant's voice booms, echoing off the stone walls of the temple. I watch as the small girl at the start of the line tenses up, her head lifting in answer. Her dark hair is pinned up in intricate swirls and billowing, pale-blue fabric flows from her. It wraps around her neck and her arms, along with strings of beads and silver jewelry. She's from Mistral.

High Archon Grant extends his hand to her with a smile. She takes it cautiously, nodding her head and allowing him to help her up the steps and onto the dais. Her nervous eyes scan over the rest of us in the line and then above us, to the alcoves housing the citizens of Septos.

I wonder if she has parents in the alcove behind the altar for Mistral. I wonder if they watched her ascend the dais with something like pride in their hearts.

"Today, Sylvia Athein," High Archon Grant continues, approaching her with the ceremonial goblet now in hand, "we celebrate the blessing Umbros, the Grand Divine, bestowed upon our ancestors many years ago. We were chosen to receive this blessing for our unwavering devotion, not only to Umbros, but to each of his children. To reward the people of Septos for their devotion to him, Umbros took a drop of blood from each of his twelve children." High Archon Grant looks up to the alcoves, pointing to each one. "Mirenna, Mistral, Solisara, Terranox, Curatia, Faunae, Malichor, Orich, Ignis, Enotia, Aeternus, and Nexus." My stomach twists as I follow his gestures, looking upon each of the altars high above us. "And finally, a drop of his own blood." It's then that he raises the goblet high above his head, and the alcoves erupt with cheers. "Umbros himself came to Septos to walk amongst his people. He told them to bring him every man and woman who had seen the passing of twenty summers, and when they did, he had them drink from a goblet just like this one. They were blessed by not only the blood of Umbros, but the blood of his twelve children, the gods and goddesses of Septos."

I watch as Sylvia squirms on the dais, her hands shaking at her sides. High Archon Grant doesn't seem to notice, his attention solely on the alcoves filled with people high above us.

"Today, we honor this blessing of our ancestors, and we honor our people. We gather our young, those who have seen the passing of twenty summers, just like Umbros did, and we have them drink from the goblet. This symbolizes the blessing of Umbros, all those years ago, awakening what we already know to reside inside each of us."

His words make my breath catch in my throat. My heart races in my chest as I remember the fear in the eyes of Ms. Caldara.

Awakening what we already know to reside inside each of us.

"Sylvia," High Archon Grant says, now standing before her, holding out the goblet, his voice stern and serious. "May the blessing of Umbros and his children awaken your gift within you."

Sylvia's hands shake as she takes the goblet from him. I watch her take in a deep breath as she brings the goblet to her lips. She takes a small sip and swallows it, handing the goblet back to High Archon Grant.

The entire temple is silent. Every pair of eyes is locked on her, in the center of the dais, surrounded by the altars of the gods and goddesses of Septos. My heart continues to race in my chest, not only for myself, but for Sylvia, as I watch the fear start to creep into her features. Her hands flex at her sides and her chest heaves with each breath, willing–begging–the gods to claim her, to bless her with a gift.

And then it happens. A blast of air erupts from her, whipping my soaking hair out of my face and nearly causing the man standing next to me to fall on his ass. When I look up to the alcoves, a bright flame lights the altar of Mistral.

Sylvia smiles so widely it almost makes my cheeks hurt just to look at her. The children of Mistral in the alcoves screech with joy, celebrating.

High Archon Grant smiles and with a sweeping motion, he extends his arm to her, presenting her to the gathering, inviting the eyes of the people of Septos to fall upon her, the gesture grand and deliberate.