For the first time in six years, Cassian woke after the sun without a single worry. They'd let them sleep in, a reward exclusive to all the students that passed. Of course they still had to sing the hymn, only later.
Some people liked to stare at the sun. To Cassian, it always just seemed like a large ball of light, and the staring, a pointless task.
Today, however, it looked beautiful. Majestic, even.
He never noticed how it interacted with the clouds before.
How its rays made them bleed an alluring shade of orange.
The world seemed different in this new lens.
Even the monotonous hymns were energetic today. Filled with more energy than usual. There were fewer students though, some may have been sent home after failing. Where would he have gone had he failed?
Thank Korvus he didn't.
Something seemed different about the people too. Maybe it was the beat to their steps, or the sing-songy tone to their voices. Or maybe the fact that they all kept staring.
"Cassian"
That was the third time this morning. Another stranger, someone he'd never met before, calling him by his name. He didn't have to be a genius to know why this was happening. Even Cain could tell. They saw his score on the test, and now everyone wanted to be friends.
He wouldn't say he hated it. But the piercing gazes were uncomfortable.
"So, what are you wearing to the ceremony?"
"Nothing. We don't get to pick. Everyone wears an all white robe. You were there last year "
"Okay…so you don't want to wear matching tunics"
"Like I said, we can't "
"Says who?"
"Says years of tradition"
"It's a silly thing"
"Tell that to the Archon"
Cain looked like he wanted to add something else, but he kept it to himself, he knew when he was beat.
There were people working in every corner. Scents wafting from every shop. This was one of the few times Norrath would ever be this lively. How could Cassian possibly stop the tingle that ran up his spine.
The crowd was large. Nobles, merchants and commoners alike. All here to see if their children would awaken and change the entire trajectory of their family.
Marks meant power, and power was absolute, that and the lord Korvus.
Everyone wanted their child to awaken
All the students were nervous, Cassian could tell.
The noble kids the most—even if they did a better job hiding it.
But how could they not be?
Most of them had brothers and sisters that had awakened. Far older than them with far greater claim to the throne. If they were not chosen, they would be a laughing stock, condemned to an eternity of mediocrity—or so the Archon said.
The Archon stepped on the stage to give his ceremonial speech
"I welcome you all."
His tunic was black today, designed with patches of blood red.
There was a response from the crowd
"All hail Korvus"
"We are here today to call upon Korvus. To ask that he bestow upon us, as he did our ancestors before, with his blessing. But you know this, we all know this. So let us skip the formalities"
The crowd cheered like he didn't give the same speech at the last ritual.
The first boy was called out. A commoner. He was sweating buckets as he made his way up the wooden podium. The Archon had a torch in his right hand and a bowl of white liquid in his left.
He heated up the liquid with the torch before taking out an amount and drawing a circle on the ground. A runic circle.
"Hear my cries O Korvus, hear your humble servants' plea" The Archon chanted.
The circle lit up, red.
Smoke filled the air, covering the boy. After a few seconds, it cleared leaving just the boy in the centre.
There was a mark on his neck now, white, same colour as the liquid.
"Praise Korvus, we have our first one"
The crowd roared, cheering as the boy walked off the stage.
The two others after him were also chosen unprecedented the Archon called it. Three marks this early he said was a good sign.
Next was a girl, her posture was immaculate. Spine straight as a silver birch in midwinter. There was a deliberate slowness to her steps, quite similar to the Archon's. And it almost seemed like she glided into every next step. Her hair was red, flowing behind her like a veil. Only one family had red hair. House Carmine.
She walked on stage, and into the circle. The Archon said the chant and it lit up. When the smoke cleared, there was a mark—barely visible— on her milk white shoulder.
"We have our first royal awakening. Congratulations"
She bowed her head before walking off.
The boy after her walked in the circle, and after the chant, nothing happened. The crowd was silent. The boy lingered a bit, before the Archon urged him to leave
"It is beyond you, the workings of Korvus. Do not blame yourself" he placed his hands on the boy's shoulder as he spoke.
"Looks like it's my turn next."
Cain stood beside Cassian
"Good luck"
"Remember, I'm a farm boy, mark or not, I still get my merchantry"
Cain said to Cassian, but Cassian still noticed the slight tremble in his feet as he walked. Cain went on his knees. He had his eyes closed, even though he didn't need to.
"Hear my cries O Korvus, hear your humble servants' plea"
A second went by, and then a brief moment. Nothing happened. The archon placed his hands on Cain's shoulders, just as he did the last boy.
He was about to say something, probably the same comforting words he said to the boy before when the mark started glowing. It was far brighter than all the others. The red was a deep burning crimson, almost liquid in its intensity.
The smoke rose, and finally when it cleared, there was a mark on the back of Cain's right hand.
"No one has manifested this mark since the great holy war a millenia ago. We truly have been blessed"
"Hail korvus" the crowd chanted.
Cain stood there, staring at his palm. He bowed to the Archon then swept his hand up in a sudden, breathless wave. There was a grin on his face as he walked back to the other students. He winked at Cassian as he walked by.
Cassian knew he was lying when he said he didn't care.
Cassian went next. His heart was thumping in his chest. A wild, erratic stutter that drowned out everything else. He felt the white fabric stick closer to his skin. Maybe he ought to have taken the bigger one.
He knew what to do, he'd memorised the process. He knelt in the circle the priest drew and stared at the wooden platform. He said a silent prayer—even though he knew it wouldn't change the outcome.
The Archon recited the chant. He seemed slower than he was with the others. He could barely hear the Archon.
The circle lit up beneath him. Purple, with a dark tinge.
He saw the smoke rise. A searing pain coursed through him.
When the smoke cleared, a black mark was there, resting on the back of his left hand.
Was that normal?
The Archon had an expression he couldn't quite read
Was the crowd cheering or gasping? And was the pain in his hand supposed to be this much? To last this long?
His vision was blurry, like there was something covering his eyes, the world went dark, slowly, like curtains drawing over a moonlit sky.